


Redemption

by Lunahras



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Ghosts, Minor Character Death, Original Character(s), Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, References to Depression, War, at last, background pairings only and therefore untagged, haru has abandonment issues, mukuro sees dead people, neither can anyone else, tsuna becomes a mafia boss, tsuna cannot deal with his upcoming death, tsuna goes through a lot of shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2015-11-29
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:37:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 23
Words: 76,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2638358
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunahras/pseuds/Lunahras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Changed forever after Fortuna turns her back on him, Sawada Tsunayoshi suddenly finds himself plunging deeper than he ever thought possible into the darkness of the Underworld and dragging his friends along with him, where he strives to redeem not just himself but his entire famiglia - all the while trying to suppress his thirst for revenge. Will he survive? Or will he destroy himself in the process?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Night of Despair

It was a beautiful evening. The sun had almost completely set, leaving the sky painted in shades of pink, orange and purple, getting darker the further up you looked, and the hills at the outskirts of town were seemingly blanketed in fire, glowing in fiery, wild tones of orange and gold. From the ceiling-high windows of the only Italian restaurant in Namimori, this view was utterly unobstructed and more than ready to leave any unprepared client of the not-too-classy-yet-not-too-casual establishment utterly breathless.

It was the perfect setting for a date.

And yet, Sawada Tsunayoshi could not bring himself to enjoy it.

A week ago, he'd _finally_ (About time, Dame-Tsuna.) finished working up the courage to ask his Sun Guardian's sister, Kyouko, out on a date. Yes, all-powerful Vongola Decimo (candidate!), who had gone through countless battles and prevailed, had needed three years to ask friendly, cheerful, doe-eyed Sasagawa Kyouko out.

Yet the day after, he'd started getting faint nudges and hints from his subconscious that he'd long since started to relate to his Hyper Intuition acting up, which left him antsy. To his frustration, throughout the whole week, nothing happened, but the nudges where starting to turn into a full-out headache that the handful of painkillers he'd taken before walking out of his home could just barely restrain.

Therefore, instead of relaxing and enjoying his very first date, he was forced to be on the constant lookout for trouble while donning a cheerful mask in front of his date. He may have agreed to inform her of all the trouble he got into whenever she was involved, but that did not mean that he _wanted_ her to be involved. At best, he was hoping to deal with whatever it was when Kyouko was not present.

But when did Fate ever listen to his pleas?

Just as he'd been starting to relax into the conversation she was successfully trying to pull him into, she had to depart for the bathroom for a short while. His Hyper Intuition flared and he looked around, searching for something amiss, but finding nothing. It was just the usual scene inside a restaurant: people sitting at tables, eating and talking and generally having a good time, waiters walking from table to kitchen to other table like bees at the orders of their queen, guards in black suits standing inconspicuously at different spots of the restaurant- wait, guards? There hadn't been guards before. Plus the whole group seemed to be composed of foreigners...

Oh hell.

At the same time that thought shot through his head, a bullet shot through the air.

And all hell broke loose.

* * *

 

Kyouko was having the time of her life, her mood only slightly dampened by the fact that Tsuna-kun apparently wasn't. She'd enjoyed every moment of the evening and basked in the calming warmth he seemed to radiate. She'd cheered inwardly when she'd managed to shift his attention completely to their conversation and away from whatever was worrying him and had been very regretful to have to leave for the bathroom, if only shortly. But, hey, when a girl has her needs, she has her needs.

Therefore she had definitely not expected the sight that awaited her outside of the bathroom. It was total chaos. Screams, some angry and some terrified, the sound of very valuable objects breaking, and, most importantly, gunshots. She finally connected the dots when she saw a swarm of men in black suits, holding _guns_ , chasing after a trail of blazing flames.

Now, Kyouko liked to think herself an EXTREME optimistic, as her brother so loudly put it, and took pride on always thinking of the best case scenario first and foremost. However, as airheaded as she admittedly could sometimes be, this did not make her stupid. She knew when to give up on optimism and start worrying about the situation. And this was one of those times.

Without a second thought, she ran for the entrance, where she'd seen most of the men go. She had to make sure Tsuna-kun was alright. She just had to. As she emerged from the entrance, she belatedly realized that it was raining. It had probably just started, but that didn't matter right now. What did matter was finding Tsu- ah, there he was. It was a bit hard to miss the orange beacon of light in the gray darkness of the evening. He was alright, he wasn't hurt. Kyouko felt her shoulders sag in relief as she processed that thought.

Then, she made a quick sweep of the men in black suits – _Mafioso_ , her mind supplied – and made her decision. It pained her to leave him under these circumstances, but, sadly, she'd seen Tsuna-kun face far worse opponents and come out without a scratch on his person. She knew he could handle this and she had faith in him. The only way she could help him right was getting out of the way. She wasn't as foolish as to think that she could aid him in battle an she didn't want to be a hindrance, so she dove back into the restaurant to wait it out.

Or at least she tried to.

Out of nowhere, a hand grabbed her hair and yanked her backwards. Something cold and narrow pressed itself against her back and she froze in panic.

This was _not_ supposed to happen.

* * *

 

Hands clenched as if in prayer and a frown marring his face, Vongola Decimo (candidate, darn it!) stood suspended in the air, his mind whirring with information, trying to make sense of the current situation while letting his body react on its own and dispatch the threats one by one.

He had no idea where they had come from. He had no idea who they were. He had no idea why they had come- no, scratch that. It was pretty obvious. But _why_? Why were they attempting to kill the arguably most powerful man in the Mafia, or at least the Heir (possible!) to that position? He had had to deal with very few attempts on his life since Reborn had come and turned it upside down, simply because such an act was widely regarded as suicide.

But here was a famiglia that deemed itself powerful enough to challenge the Vongola. Or maybe they had thought that kidnapping their last heir, who they had heard was a small, wimpy kid with absolutely no connections in the Mafia. If the latter was the case, these guys were either pretty new in the business or had a horrible informant. If the former was the case... there would at least be some flame users in this group, so that was out.

He was brought out of his musings by an authoritative shout, “Vongola Decimo!” His enemies suddenly retreated, which probably meant that the man shouting was their leader. He turned his head to exactly who that was – and his breath caught in his throat. “We've got a hostage. The woman you fancy if I am not mistaken. Surrender now and we _might_ let her go.” The man holding a gun to Kyouko's back sneered.

Three years ago, he might have complied. Three years ago he would've been devastated and frozen in shock and self loathing. But right now? Right now he was just angry. Outraged, somewhat fearful, yes.

But mostly angry.

Without an ounce of hesitation, he charged at them fully intending to save Kyouko. But he did not count on the reaction of an opponent unprepared at the sight of him going at speeds far beyond normality. It had, after all, been quite a long while since he had fought an opponent without an ounce of knowledge about flames. So he never expected the man to accidentally pull the trigger out of sheer fright.

_No._

As his eyes widened in horror, he could do nothing but watch her eyes widen in shock and her back arch in pain. He could do nothing but see her body falling as if in slow motion, a far away part of his mind absently calculating if he'd be able to catch her before she hit the floor. He could do nothing to save the life that was quickly fading from those beautiful, _beautiful_ eyes or to stop the red _redcrimsonred_ stain blooming on the front and back of her summer dress.

He could do _nothing._ He was _helpless_ to watch.

When he finally reached her, an arm found its way around her shoulders to support her while his other hand grabbed the man's face, letting him feel the _burn_ of his flames before throwing him into a wall. It then reached into his pocket and pulled out a cellphone. His hand was trembling, but he managed to dial the right number, all the while looking anywhere but that horrible stain. After what felt like an eternity and a half, someone picked up.

“ _Juudaime? Is something wrong?”_

He didn't waste a single breath “Get me Onii-san!”

“ _Juu-”_

“Now!”

“ _What's wrong?”_ His tone of voice turned strict and demanding, something he had scarcely used on his beloved Boss simply out of principle. It left no room for argument.

“It's... it's Kyouko, she... I can't...” Tears started prickling the corners of his eyes and his voice grew incredibly faint, “... help... she... she's...” he couldn't continue but he didn't need to either.

“ _I'll get turf top. We'll be there as soon as we can. Don't worry Juudaime.”_ And the line went dead.

Tsuna stared at his phone in trepidation. Dare he hope? Was Kyouko really not going to... to...

His train of thought was brought to a halt when he felt soft, trembling fingers on his cheek. His hand found hers and pressed it against his cheek as he looked down at the girl lying on his lap (and since when was he on his knees?). His breath hitched when he took in her unnaturally pale complexion and her irregular breathing. But her lips. Her lips, bloody and pale as they were, were stretched in a _smile_.

“Tsuna... kun.” She said in a voice so faint he could barely hear her.

“No! Kyouko-chan, don't talk. Just- just hold on and wait. Onii-san will be here any moment and-” But she shook her head gently, almost imperceptibly, and his brain stopped working.

“I loved... the time I... could spend with... you and ev- everyone.” Now he was shaking his head, not noticing the trail of hot tears on his face, but his eyes never left hers. “You... made me... very happy.”

Tsuna gritted his teeth in frustration. No. This couldn't be happening. _No._ But she continued, even as every breath she took felt like liquid fire, she continued.

“I don't... blame you... I- I actually wan... wanted to thank you... for sharing so... so much with me. So don't... don't let me stop you... your life... live it with... without regrets.” More tears poured out of his eyes like a river and he leaned forward, because he knew he could not miss a single word. Light was quickly leaving her eyes as she got two last words out.

“Goodbye... Tsu-kun...” With those words her eyes unfocused as she looked beyond him and the sky, to a place where he could not reach her.

Tsuna let his head fall in despair as the drops of rain pounded mercilessly on his back. “Kyouko-chan... Kyouko...”

And so, Sasagawa Kyouko died under the heavy rain with a smile on her face.

* * *

 

The men who had originally attacked the restaurant were frozen in place. Their leader was down for the count, which had never occurred to them when they were planning an attack on the Vongola Decimo as a show of power from their relatively new and admittedly weak famiglia. They had heard the Vongola was a big shot in the Mafia and their sole weakness was the heir, who lived in Japan and supposedly was not suited for the position of Boss at all.

Then, the boy had suddenly caught on fire, under the rain, and god knew how they were supposed to react to _that_. But they were nothing if not relentless, so they kept on attacking. And then their leader, their saviour of saviours, had found leverage against the young Boss who was surpassing their expectations in every way. For a moment, relief had washed over them.

And then the boy disappeared, only to appear right next to the leader right as a single gunshot resounded throughout the street. He'd grabbed him by the head with a flaming hand (in retrospect, this should not have been so shocking, seeing as the boy could _fly)_ and thrown him into a wall.

That had never happened before.

Their current leader was the second-in-command of the whole famiglia. The man was strong and fearsome (of course they couldn't compare since they had barely ever seen other, more powerful famiglie in action). He was pretty much invincible. And he was currently lying unconscious in a whole in the wall he'd been thrown into, surrounded by rubble.

For the men, who had never really seen what people in their world were really capable of, this was the equivalent of the end of the world. Therefore, they were too shocked to react to the blatant opportunity given to them when the boy held the girl as she undoubtedly died in his arms.

However, they were shaken out of their stupor when they noticed the boy standing up.

* * *

 

This rain did not calm any hearts, nor did it wash away any sort of anxiety. No, this rain disguised. It disguised his face, it disguised the tears, it disguised the sorrow, and it made him feel as cold outside as he felt inside.

He didn't like this rain, but he didn't hate it either.

As he slowly turned around and deliberately walked over to the men standing a ways away from him, he didn't look up to take in their reactions, nor to measure which points in the body to attack. He kept his eyes shadowed by his bangs and his posture relaxed (sagged, slumped) as he ever so slowly approached his attackers. The change was gradual.

The first thing that stood out to them in the dark, rainy evening was the small flame on his forehead.

Three more steps. Now his hands – fists – were burning.

Five steps closer. Some eerie glow emanated from below those bangs of his.

Four steps. The flame on his forehead grew, became wilder.

Two steps.

Six steps.

Three steps.

A gunshot.

Time stopped. He did too. A faint line of red, blood, traced his cheek. A stray shot out of nerves and tension.

He lifted his eyes – and the men froze. Those eyes. Those glowing, intense eyes. They were the eyes of a god of destruction on a warpath searching for those who had incurred his wrath.

And _finding_ them.

For a moment, nothing moved. Their hearts did not beat, the rain did not fall, the flames did not flicker.

And then, he _disappeared_.

The men had no time to even scream.

* * *

 

Hayato was panting. He'd had to find that stupid turf top for Juudaime since apparently something had happened to his woman, who also happened to be the idiot's younger sister. The problem was that the insufferable, loud imbecile could never find it in himself to get himself a freaking cellphone. Therefore, he'd been forced search through half the town until he found him jogging in the park.

Convincing him, at least, hadn't been so troublesome since all he had to do was mention his sister. After that he was completely willing to follow him to where he knew the Juudaime's date was supposed to take place at – which was at the other side of town.

At some point, they'd ran into the baseball freak and, after listening to what they knew from turf top, who was uncharacteristically serious, he decided to tag along just in case something happened.

By the time the neared the restaurant, Hayato was ready to pull his hair out in impatience. Juudaime, he'd sounded truly desperate and completely terrified on the phone, to the point where he'd had to use what his sister called his 'authoritative voice' to get anything out of him. Every, second he spent away from the Juudaime's side was another possible tragedy.

And he had a _very_ bad feeling.

If it were not for the fact that they were still needed, he would have collapsed from relief when they finally reached their destination. That is, until he actually saw what was going on.

Countless bodies littered the street. Mafioso, judging by their attire and the guns in most of their hands. A knot formed in his stomach but he ignored it in favour of looking for his Boss. But when his gaze finally found him, it was definitely not what he'd expected to see.

Tsuna was holding a man by the throat. His other hand went _through_ the man's chest. The man was not breathing.

What.

The lifeless body fell from his grasp and Hayato finally noticed what he hadn't before. The blood. While being somewhat washed away by the rain, the blood was still there.

And it was _everywhere._ His hands. His clothes. His face. His hair. Everywhere.

_What._

No. This was impossible. There was no way- He couldn't have- He- He- No! Tsuna- Tsuna would never have done that. Never. He was too kind, too compassionate, too adamant on valuing life ( _too naïve_ , whispered his subconscious). So this couldn't be-

Tsuna turned his head to look at them and suddenly he could not think, could not even breathe.

The flames were gone now, as was the glow, leaving Tsuna as his core. And his eyes... they didn't look at them but through them. Those eyes were hollow, void, with only a flicker of emotion – grief? Despair? – and so completely and utterly broken it made himself feel heartbroken.

Something had happened. Something so horrible that Tsuna had forgone his own morals and beliefs, everything he stood for. And it had left him broken, possibly beyond repair.

Minutes passed as Tsuna just stared at them while they stared at everything, trying to process what had just happened. Of course, after a while, the silence was broken.

“Sawada.” said boy turned to look at his Sun Guardian, who levelled him with a serious if somewhat fearful gaze. But it wasn't fear _of_ him. It was fear for- “What happened to Kyouko?”

He just stood there, frozen. His eyes widened as tears gathered in the corners and his face contorted as if in pain. He lowered his gaze so he didn't have to look the other in the eye, but his trembling frame gave everything away.

And Ryohei recognized the meaning behind his actions perfectly. But he wasn't one for denial, nor was he one to put the blame on others. So, instead of all that, he simply did what he always did when he needed to alleviate his feelings. He punched something, namely the street beneath him. And he moved. He ran and ran and kept running because if he didn't completely exhaust himself _right now_ , he would break down into a million pieces and that's not how older brother's were supposed to act. And while he- while he did not have a little sis- sister any- anymo- anymore, he still had a little brother. And he'd be damned if he couldn't take care of him because he was too busy moping around.

So he ran. And with his sweat and the rain, nobody saw the tears.

* * *

 

Tsuna watched his 'big brother' go with an even heavier heart. He'd failed him. He'd failed Onii-san and Haru and Bianchi and Lambo and I-pin and Hana and Oh God He'd _**Failed**_.

And he'd failed Kyouko-chan.

A voice brought him back to reality. “Tsuna...” He turned his head, this time to his Rain. “What... what happened here?”

What? What did he mean? It was so damn obvious! Kyouko-chan was de- dead and- and-

He looked around.

Bodies. There were bodies everywhere. And blood. So much blood, diluted by the rain. Like that stain on her dress.

How... ?

And the memories of minutes ago came rushing back.

He stared at his hand. It was covered in blood. He looked at his clothes. Splattered in the same substance. He stumbled back, disbelieving, eyes widened in horrified realization.

What had he done?

_What had he done?!_

He'd taken lives. Multiple lives. He hadn't been thinking. He'd been so empty and so cold because-

Kyouko.

_Kyouko._

He'd killed. She was dead. He'd taken lives. Her life had been taken. He had mindlessly killed. He had not protected her.

Tsuna fell to his knees and looked up at the almost invisible clouds hiding the night sky, trying to flood the world. The moon could not be seen and it's absence made the night even darker. Somehow, this fact filled him with more despair.

And he cried out to the heavens themselves as if his heart was being torn out of him.

Because it had.

That night was a night grief, loss and despair. A night that was locked away in the deepest confines of the hearts of those present.

Because neither the Rain nor the Storm nor the Cloud that had been watching could console their Sky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, on that happy note, who likes my new fic? No one? oh, come on! she died, yes, but it was a necessary evil! expect more chapters soon. I've got another sixteen already done ;)


	2. The Night Sky

A gunshot pierced the air.

“Kyouko!” Tsuna tried reaching towards the falling girl, but no matter how much he ran, the distance never got smaller.

His vision changed. He was facing the men who had killed her. Who had killed his light in the darkness. They deserved to die. They deserved to-

And suddenly the men weren't standing anymore. They were lying on the floor.

Wounded. Dismembered.

_Dead._

And his figure was soaked in red.

“It's all your fault.” A familiar voice said, accusing, broken, hateful. “All of it.” Tsuna found his tongue frozen in place as he turned his head around to look at the source of he voice. There, lying on the ground, limbs bent at impossible angles and staring right at him with empty, glassy eyes, was Kyouko.

“You killed them. They could have had friends, families, a future.”

Tsuna's heart grew heavy.

“And you took all that away.”

His legs gave out from underneath him.

“You killed them. And you didn't even save me.”

The blood on the ground started creeping towards him, trying to engulf him.

“You killed _me_.”

The blood reached his shoulders, his neck, his mouth, his nose and he couldn't _breath._

“You're a murderer, Tsuna-kun.”

His world went black and the last thing he remembered was drowning in a sea of blood.

* * *

 

He awoke with a start, panting and dripping with sweat. His heart was beating erratically as he tried to orientate himself. Where was he? He looked around at the room, _his_ room. He shoulders sagged in relief at this realization but it did nothing to calm him.

One shaky hand touched his face, pulling back so he could see it. It was wet. For a moment, the tears weren't clear but crimson coloured and they were everywhere and they soaked into his skin and-

Choking on air, Tsuna blinked reflexively. The red was gone. There was nothing on his hand but clear, salty tears. Then the nausea hit. He quickly grabbed the bucket standing beside his bed and emptied his stomach, which had already been empty to begin with. It was an unpleasant feeling at best, even with the glass of water taken afterwards to cleanse his mouth.

He released a shuddering breath and leaned back on the wall. It had been three days since _That Night_ , and still, the nightmares haunted him, blaming him, twisting him, breaking him. He'd considered just staying awake, but that had proved impossible for him,whose body was used to regular sleep.

In the end, he just had to bear with it and hope that they would go away soon.

A choked sob escaped him. He tried to suppress it, somewhat unsuccessfully.

“It's been three days.” He didn't even have the energy to be startled by his tutor's sudden appearance, looking at him from hollow, bloodshot eyes. “Why are you still here?”

Tsuna didn't deign that with a response, choosing instead to let his gaze wander. Reborn let out a frustrated goal. Was this really his student? The boy who had faced the Earth Flames, the Vindice and the Mare Sky Guardian and prevailed every single time? This broken, fragile child? He snorted unamusedly. Well, if he wouldn't get past this on his own, Reborn would help him along.

“Snap out of it, Dame-Tsuna!” _That_ got his attention. “How long do you plan to stay here? How long are you planning on moping around in your room and feeling sorry for yourself while your Famiglia needs you? While your Guardians need you?” And by Guardians, they both knew, he meant the Sun specifically.

Something flickered in Tsuna's eyes. It was enough to err him on. “You have a responsibility, Tsuna. Both as their Boss and as their Sky. You can't simply drop everything on a whim.”

Something vaguely resembling a frown appeared on the boy's forehead and he responded mostly out of habit. “I'm not the Bo-”

“ _Yes, you are!_ ” Reborn bit out rather harshly. The stress was getting to him and he was losing his cool. Something akin to guilt (but not quite) was eating at him and he'd been cursing Nono from dawn to dusk ever seen he'd been summoned back to Italy for the yearly report and then come back, only to find out that everything had gone to hell and his student was in a deep state of depression.

“Whether you like it or not, _you_ are the last possible heir, _you_ have been trained for the position for the last three years, you _don't_ have any means of escape since the whole thing is already public, including the Inheritance Ceremony fiasco. Hell, _your Guardians_ have long since agreed.” His tone then turned darker, deadlier, and the flicker in Tsuna's eyes became stronger. “You don't have an option , Tsuna. Once you're involved in the Mafia, you can't escape.”

“But... I... those men... Kyouko-chan...” the last part was spoken in naught but a pained whisper.

“People die. This is the Mafia. Death is as rare as bread. There isn't much you can do about it.” If he was already revealing the true colours of their world to the boy, might as well go all the way. After all, these were the basics. Without them, his life expectancy would be ridiculously low.

“But I... what I did... I don't... I...” he sobbed, but managed to hold on to any last scraps of composure left in him “I killed them, Reborn. Every one of them. Because... because they killed Kyouko-chan.”

Reborn sighed. It was time for the boy to get this straight, or he would be crippled in the future. “Death and killing, they both come with the job. If you don't get this in your head, you will never be able to lead the Vongola, let alone practically the entire Italian Mafia as _Capo di tutti Capi._

“You once said you would change the Mafia for the better, but you can't do that with pretty words and empty promises. Your enemies will not hesitate to kill you, nor will they hesitate to harm or mercilessly kill your family, friends or anyone you come in contact with. So you can't either. When you enter the underworld, you will have to steel your heart. If you want to protect the ones you love, you will have to sacrifice a part of yourself.” He paused for a moment, the continued. “When the time comes that you have to choose between an ally and an enemy life, your choice has to be clear.”

Silence hung in the air as Tsuna processed his tutor's words through the slowly dissipating haze and turmoil in his mind. And came to a conclusion.

* * *

 

Sawada Tsunayoshi, by nature, was not whiny, nor did he complain much.

His mother could attest to that. His teachers could too. Heck, even his former bullies could. Anyone who spent even slightly more time with him (or even just watched him more) than the average stranger was bound to notice his utter refusal of voicing any and all negative thoughts about _anything whatsoever_.

So, of course, it came as no surprise when the spies the Vongola had stationed in Namimori to watch over their last heir had noticed this little fact too. A little fact which was later written in their reports. The reports which would, years later, land into the hands of none other than the best hitman in the world.

Having this title, of course, meant that he knew how to do his job. He'd long ago learned that studying his target (his personality, habits, likes, dislikes, intelligence levels, skills, etc.) was the first and biggest step towards a successful hit. Now, the Vongola heir wasn't a target per se, but if he was going to spend years of his life shaping him into an outstanding Boss, he might as well get to know said trainee. After all, Reborn hated surprises. Therefore, he memorized the reports.

When the fated day finally came for Reborn to introduce himself (and the boy's fate) to the Sawadas, Tsunayoshi (or Dame-Tsuna, since he found sadistic pleasure in embarrassing his students for the headache they would cause him) had been more than a little disgruntled. What Reborn didn't know however, due to the fact that, contrary to popular belief, he could not, in fact, read minds, was that, inside, he had been a raging storm of anger, panic, confusion and worry, all masked under a façade of incompetent flailing and useless rejection.

Tsuna wasn't dumb. He knew that everything said by the sanity-defying infant had been the truth. He could _feel_ it. But even so, he couldn't allow it. Sure, he was scared out of his wits (it was the _Mafia_ , for Kami's sake!), but his mother would be involved and he couldn't allow that.

So he vehemently rejected the idea. He dragged his feet in training, complained at every given opportunity, hoping to outwhine his tutor's patience, and fled any situation that would give the not-baby a glimpse of the person he could actually be, all in the hopes that he would snap, think him a hopeless case (it helped that he was neither athletically nor academically inclined) and leave to look for some long lost , distantly related heir. Too bad he himself already fit into that category. When it became clear, though, that Reborn would not be leaving any time soon, he'd started giving in, resigning himself to the idea.

That was, until he started involving other people.

Gokudera Hayato had not been that big of a deal. The boy was already involved in the Mafia and wouldn't be getting out. The deal was already sealed. However, when Yamamoto Takeshi, an innocent, cheerful, _normal_ baseball player was pulled into the whole mess, Tsuna's whiny persona had returned with a vengeance.

Needless to say, this had Reborn very frustrated. The reports hadn't mentioned this type of behaviour at all. In fact, they had stated the complete opposite. So why oh why was his student acting like this?

Needing an outlet for his frustration, he'd upped Tsuna's training manifold and in many painful ways. Far more than his other student. A fact Tsuna had found out about months later when sharing torture anecdotes with Dino.

But still, Tsuna wouldn't give in, still hoping to drive his tutor mad even after a whole year. Even after he'd unconsciously started relaxing into the idea once again but still refused to acknowledge it, smothering the thought in denial.

Even with the threat of Mukuro hanging over their heads he had not relented until the very end, and even then, only for a short while. In fact, seeing his friends hurt had only strengthened his notion.

And then Xanxus had come, and he'd had no choice but to show his true resolve, even while he was still hoping to evade this whole Ring mess without endangering his precious friends.

After that, most of his whines and complaints had been half-hearted at best, because deep down, he knew there was no such thing as escape anymore. Even while his heart still desperately hoped that the darkness would only suck him in, his mind knew he would be dragging everyone with him, whether they liked it or not. Still, it was a fact he'd never accepted.

Not until reality had slapped him in the face. Hard.

He couldn't protect anyone like this, with one foot in and one foot out. It just wasn't going to work. That had become painfully evident three days ago. If he wanted to protect everyone, he'd have to choose a side and 'out' was already a far away dream. So 'in' it was. And he'd take anyone willing to follow him into darkness with him. Because he couldn't push them away. Not now, or it would _destroy_ him.

There was no use in denying it anymore. That would only lead to pain and suffering for him and those around him. No, it was time to let go of the mask once and for all and accept the fate he'd been dreading, welcome it even. After all, he'd promised Primo he'd destroy the Vongola. He was still planning on rebuilding it from scratch and returning it to it's former purpose.

He would make sure that those precious to him were safe, even if he had to tread a path of shadows to do it.

As Tsuna looked out the window, some time after Reborn left the room, his eyes were no longer deadened and hollow. They were blazing with grim determination.

He was Sawada Tsunayoshi, descendant of Primo, and the Sky Guardian of the clam, Vongola Decimo.

* * *

 

It had taken him another day to finish gathering his wits and get himself under control. Reborn was right. His family needed him right now, he couldn't afford to waver. Even so, the next few days were spent preparing, both mentally and emotionally, to finish what he started and to finally say goodbye.

He'd visited the Sasagawas out of concern for Ryohei and to apologize to the parents, deeply and from the bottom of his heart, for involving Kyouko in a dangerous situation and not protecting her until the very end. It had been painful, extremely so, but it had to be done, if only to ease the heavy sense of guilt in his heart.

But he had been taken completely by surprise when Ryohei, not as blindingly bright as before but still _Ryohei_ , had declared him his little brother and the two adults had forgiven him with watery, understanding smiles. Tsuna, while deeply struck, couldn't imagine the pain this family was going through after losing a daughter and sister, and yet they had forgiven him.

Not only that, they had given him the right to join the family-only funeral tradition of the Sasagawas: each family member, on the day of the funeral, would leave a flower between the hands of the diseased, forming a bouquet as a goodbye present before the lid of the coffin was closed. A small, detached part of him found it poetic. The rest of him was overwhelmed. These people wanted to include him into such an intimate gesture. They were calling him family and welcoming him with open arms.

He felt privileged, special, and so incredibly relieved that he'd left the house in a hurry after profoundly thanking them and almost hadn't made it to his own home in time. The moment the door closed, the dam broke and salty tears slid down his cheeks, of mixed joy and grief.

* * *

 

Haru felt numb.

She'd been like this for days on end and couldn't possibly remember why. Until an invitation to Sasagawa Kyouko's funeral came in the mail one morning and all the memories she'd suppressed came back crashing down on her (that she was dead her beast friend was dead _dead_ _ **dead)**_ and she couldn't take them.

Still even if she couldn't suppress them anymore (they were burned into her mind by now), she still numbed herself. Because the pain was too much.

She was alone again.

The friendless freak.

Alone.

So she spent her days numb. Not thinking, not feeling, just following through with her routine as a week passed and the funeral came around.

Her parents didn't come with her. Of course they didn't. They hadn't even noticed that their daughter was acting oddly. Besides, they were too busy for something as frivolous as the funeral of their child's only friend. Haru was sure that she was supposed to feel something at this point. Disappointment, maybe betrayal or anger, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

Throughout the funeral, her face remained blank. Even after she caught sight of Tsuna-san, the butterflies in her stomach that usually accompanied this event oddly absent, as he approached the coffin and placed a delicate pink rose among a few other white flowers of different kinds over Kyouko, she did not change.

When the proceedings were over with and the coffin buried, she prepared to leave, only to stumble slightly when someone lightly bumped into her.

“Sorry.” said a distinctly familiar voice. But when she lifted her eyes to look into the just as familiar green eyes, it was not the usual annoyance that she found there but some kind of resignation and grim acceptance.

The silver haired teen bent down to pick up the the handbag that she had let fall and handed it to her. She nodded in a grateful gesture, her face still blank, and walked out of the cemetery and towards her house.

Standing before the locked front door, she opened her bag, intent on finding her keys, and stood stock still.

There, inside the bag, were two envelopes that hadn't been there a few hours ago. Slowly, she took them out to examine them – and her breath caught in her throat. The symbol on the first one, all gold and intricate, was one she would never be able to forget: a bullet with two muskets on either side and a winged clam. The same symbol that decorated Tsuna-san's ring.

The crest of the Vongola.

Wanting to stall, she took the the key from her handbag and opened the door in a hurry, immediately closing it after her and bolting up the stairs to her room.

When she deemed it safe enough, she decided to look at the second envelope. It was plain and white, a bit smaller than the first one. On the back stood a simple: _To: Miura Haru_

She opened that one first and began to read.

_Dear Haru,_

_I'm truly sorry for what happened. It was entirely my fault and there's nothing I could ever do to lift that guilt. But it has taught me a lesson._

_I know this is bit sudden, but I have decided to never let anything like that happen ever again. The other letter that came with this one is an invitation into my famiglia. If you accept, you will be part of the Vongola and under our protection._

_However, it also comes with some responsibilities and the Mafia itself is not a forgiving place, so I would completely understand if you refused. You could simply cut all ties with me and change your last name, maybe move out of the country to be sure. We'll take care of everything if it comes to that, so you don't need to worry._

_Either way, I won't let any of my precious people come to harm. That includes you._

_Again, I know this must be sudden and you're probably still coping with the whole situation as we all are and I'm sorry, but it would be best for both my nerves and your safety if you replied as soon as possible._

_Please think about it,_

_Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Decimo_

_P.S.: Please burn this letter after you have read it. Thank you._

Haru stared for a while and let her gaze drift to the first envelope.

An invitation?

Into the _Vongola_?

Did... did Tsuna-san really care that much about her? He had called her one of his precious people.

So she wasn't alone?

And she could leave?

With him?

And with all the other wonderful, colourful people around him?

Haru felt tears gathering in her eyes as the numbness receded. But what crashed trough her wasn't only the heartbreaking pain she'd feared. No, there was more that kept it at bay. So much more.

She was _wanted._

And she could _leave._

There would be no sleep for Miura Haru tonight. Her thoughts had claimed her for the next few hours.

* * *

 

In the grey not-dark of dusk, Ryohei made his way back to the cemetery. Tsuna still hadn't left the grave's side.

His eyebrows creased with worry and left-over grief as he called out to the brunet in an uncharacteristically faint voice. “Sawada-”

“Call me Tsuna.”

“Huh?”

The boy looked up from the gravestone to pierce him with his warm, chocolate gaze. “You said I'm your otouto now, right? Then... please call me Tsuna.”

Ryohei was speechless for a moment, before a small spot of warmth appeared in his chest and he gave a slight smile. “Ok, Tsuna.”

The other smiled back before looking back to the gravestone. “Say, onii-san...”

Ryohei looked at him, urging him to continue.

Tsuna's gaze shifted to the sky above, seemingly trying to decide what to say, and his voice was a whisper, yet it was still firm. “...I talked to Reborn. He told me where 'they' are.”

Ryohei sucked in a sharp breath. He didn't need to ask who 'they' were. Them. The men who had killed his precious sister. His attention was now completely on Tsuna, who looked back at him, this time with intense, determined – dangerous – orange eyes. “Do you want to avenge her? Kyouko-chan?”

And in that moment, the older teen saw it. This boy in front of him was not the same bright Sky as before. He was still a Sky, still harmonious and accepting and all-encompassing, yet he was different... darker, in a sense. This Sky was a night sky. Not a black, bottomless night. No, it had a moon ( _which was gone now_ , whispered his mind) and countless bright stars to support it, keep it from drowning the world in darkness.

And the offer he'd just been given was a thing of the night. Revenge for the beautiful, shining moon that had been the sky's light in times of darkness.

No, the sun had no business in things of the night.

Shaking his head, he declined the offer and Tsuna's eyes looked at him with understanding. He nodded once and walked to the entrance of the cemetery, leaving his Sun to ponder by his sister's grave.


	3. A Trip to Italy

In the warm, incomplete darkness, the door creaked open. A silhouette stepped into the room and quietly closed the door behind him. As silently as possible, he took one step. Two steps. Three ste-

The lights came on.

“Did you off them all?” asked a dark, squeaky voice. The former silhouette, now revealed as Sawada Tsunayoshi, turned his head to look at the other with that unnervingly emotionless look he'd been wearing often lately and shook his head.

“No.”

Reborn frowned slightly, “Did you kill _anyone_?”

“I didn't.”

What? Wasn't this supposed to be his vendetta? The boy had been so anguished, so determined, so _angry_. So why had he done nothing? His frustration became apparent in the darkening of his voice. “ _Dame-Tsuna-_ ”

“But I left them wishing I had.”

And Reborn pulled up short. There was no satisfaction, no accomplishment, no sated note in his voice. Tsuna had come for revenge, yet he had left without it – well, most of it. But... was that a speck of bitterness he heard in his voice? Was that glint in his eyes one of grim, suppressed vindictiveness? And was that a hint of _bloodlust_ that permeated the air around him?

Perhaps his student had picked up a few of his sadistic tendencies along the way. They had been living under the same miraculously non-collapsible roof for three years now, and Reborn had not held back. It was a possibility that he held nothing but pride for.

Still, the question remained: why had he changed his mind? He had half a mind to voice it when he finally noticed the dark bags under his eyes. Shaking his head, he sent the boy off to the bedroom, but not before warning him of their plans for the next day.

“We're going to Vongola Headquarters tomorrow to talk to Nono. I've already called him. So try to wake up early, or I'll wake you up” _Vongola style_ went unsaid, yet completely understood. His only reply was a visible shiver and a closed door.

The next morning found the newspaper on the breakfast table with the head title **'Anonymous tip leads Police to Formica Famiglia – All members apprehended after urgent medical treatment'** being ignored while shrill screams and sounds vaguely resembling an electrical current filled the expensive suite in the middle of Florence.

* * *

Timoteo was a patient man.

He had been patient when Coyote Nougat had adamantly refused the spot of his Storm Guardian.

He had been patient when one of his men was about to betray him to protect his family.

He had been patient where the antics of the newly recruited Young Lion of the Vongola would have driven lesser men mad.

He had been patient when Xanxus had drowned in denial and closed himself off to the truth.

He had been patient when his chosen heir had refused the position at any chance he got.

And, like every other time, he had gotten what he wanted. With patience and perseverance. It truly felt wonderful when everything went as planned. Of course, the last case had had a few hiccups along the way, but in the end, his patience had been rewarded.

Just as always.

Currently, he couldn't keep the smile on his face from forming, as he was waiting for the reward of that very last case. He glanced at his watch. They should be arriving in-

“Hello, Nono.”

Hmm, they were a tad earlier than expected. He'd thought a boy Tsuna's age wouldn't want to get up so early. Not that he was complaining, mind you.

“Ah, hello you two. Please sit down. It's nice to see you again. Especially you, Tunayoshi. It has been a long time.”

He received a smile, “It has. It's nice to see you too, grandpa – although I should be calling you Nono now, shouldn't I?” he added after seeing his tutor's pointed glare.

“Oh, nonsense. Call me what you will. Besides, you'll be sitting behind this desk yourself very soon, so there's really no need for such formalities between us.” He summoned up the most grandfatherly smile he could manage to add emphasis. However, its counterpart on the boy's face suddenly looked the tiniest bit strained before smoothing out as if nothing had happened. A fact Timoteo chose to ignore in favour of finally having this conversation.

“I-if you insist, then I guess it's ok.”

His eyes softened. Tsunayoshi really hadn't changed much in the past year. He was still a stuttering mess one moment, and the next he'd be powerful, infallible Vongola Decimo. The transformation was bewildering every single time he saw it, without exceptions. It seemed, though, that it wasn't taking place now, since he was still a bundle of nerves, just like before. However...

However, there was something; something about him that was different in so many senses of the word, even though nothing looked out of place. It was a shadow, a flash of darkness hidden beneath the surface. Something that made his hairs stand on end and, at the same time, made his heart ache with foreign grief.

He wanted to know, _really_ wanted to know what had happened. What had given birth to that shadow. But it could jeopardize his already tentative deal with his heir and this wasn't the time anyway. Maybe one day, when his successor could really trust him. Until then, sating his curiosity would have to wait.

As the last few details of the deal were hammered down, Tsunayoshi finally brought up the subject he'd been anticipating.

“But what do we do about the Inheritance Ceremony? I mean I've already gone through it, but that one was fake _and_ it was interrupted anyway. Besides, you don't have the Sin. Or the Punishment, for that matter.”

“I've already thought of a solution for that. You don't have to worry.”

The brunet looked at him expectantly. He just smiled back mysteriously. The boy sighed in resignation, seemingly used to having important information kept from him until the crucial moment. With Reborn as a tutor, he probably was.

At that moment, someone knocked on his office door and his secretary, a woman who would be retiring very soon, poked her head in, “Sir, you have a meeting with the Giegue representative in fifteen minutes. It'll take some time to get to the designated meeting place.” _So please wrap this up now_ , were her loudly silent words.

“It seems our conversation must draw to an end now, Tsunayoshi. Was there anything else you wanted to discuss?”

He hesitated for a second, then shook his head. “No, that was all. T-thank you for having us.”

“Don't thank me. It was nothing.” he replied as he watched them walk for the door, until something caught his eye. “I hadn't noticed before, Tsunayoshi. Is that necklace new?”

For a split second, the brunet tensed, before replying in a slightly raw voice. “Yes. It's a... memento.” And with that, he walked briskly towards the door and left.

Timoteo, however, had decades of experience with handling politics and Mafia Bosses. He knew how to read between the lines. And his successor, in all his endearing amateurishness, did not know how to hide the true meaning of his words yet.

That silver chain, which had once held the Sky Half Ring, now had a small, narrow glass container dangling from it, which was filled with some rolled-up, tattered, light blue fabric with tiny, almost invisible red-brown stains. Completely irrelevant to anyone except the boy whose contradicting grief and determination were clearly visible whenever he grabbed it.

It was indeed a memento, but not just of a person.

_It was a memento mori._

* * *

“ _Tsu-kun, you'll be gone for a few days, right?” said the deceptively young looking woman that he called his mother._

“ _M-hm.”_

_She flashed him that brilliant smile that reminded him so much of- “Could you do me a favour then, Tsu-kun?”_

_His former train of thought derailed, he gazed at her curiously, wordlessly urging her on. Her smile widened a fraction and she handed him an envelope, small, white and simple, “Could you give this to your father while you're wherever you're going? I haven't been able to contact him lately, so I thought a letter would do.”_

_He was already in mid-nodding when his mind finally caught up with the implications of her words. He froze and his eyes widened._

_Her smile didn't waver at all, not for a single moment, but something else made itself known. A shade of... mischievousness? She thanked him energetically and he could only stutter out incomplete thoughts._

“ _How- Wha-”_

_She turned back to him just as she was about to leave the room and mouthed two words._

_Those two words snapped him out of his daze and he suddenly saw his mother in a completely new light. Making a split second decision that he was sure he wouldn't regret, he called out to her before she left. “Mom! I-I need... When I come back... we need to talk. It's important.”_

_She looked at him for a moment, as if assessing him, and then nodded in a serious manner that was somehow not at all diminished by the almost sparkly smile still on her lips. Then, turning around, she left he son alone in his room once again while he wondered if this was how his guardians felt whenever he actually aimed his smiles to disarm._

_Tsuna looked down at his hand, or more precisely, the small envelope it held, and was reminded of those two words spoken a mere minute before that had completely changed his perspective of his mother in less than a second._

“Mother's Intuition.”

_He sighed._

* * *

Life was...

Life was....

It was....

Oh, to hell with it. For Lal Mirch, life was many things, but right now, it was completely, utterly and plainly  _boring._

The CEDEF may have been part of the Mafia, but it wasn't outright involved in anything. They were a sort of neutral party in Vongola's strange times of peace, the blockade that kept them from going nuts on the underworld (not that they weren't pretty close to it already). So, when there was no war or invasion or double crossing or internal conflict or challenge going on, they didn't really have much to do.

Scratch that. They had  _absolutely nothing_ to do.

Nothing except actually working in the supposed company that was their cover. What that company was even all about, she had no idea nor interest in. She was a fighter, a soldier, and that was the end of it. No one, not even that idiot Iemitsu, was going to stick her to a chair for an office job. She was not having it. Period.

So it came as no surprise when news of a small, strange teenager in their lobby spread like wildfire throughout the whole building, only much faster. As much as the CEDEF's cover was supposed to be some kind of business, the didn't get any clients. Not really.

And because she was utterly bored and didn't have anything better to do, she went downstairs to investigate what the whole uproar was about. It couldn't be as interesting as it was portrayed, but it would have to do.

The moment the elevator doors opened to let her out, Lal learned how easy it was to eat her own words.

“My name is Sawada Tsunayoshi. I'm looking for Sawada Iemitsu. I need to give him something.” said the familiar brunet standing in front of the receptionist, who was trying very hard not to gape. She was not succeeding in her attempts.

Lal shook herself out of her stupor –  _what the hell was he doing here_ – and walked up to him, “Tsuna.”

At the familiar voice, said boy turned to look at her and his face broke into an adorab-  _insufferable_ grin. “Lal! I-it's been a while. How are you doing?”

She stared at him, ignoring both the greeting and the question, and then sighed heavily. “What are you doing here, Tsuna?”

His grin turned into a gentle frown, which vanished as quickly as it had appeared, a resigned expression in its place. “My mom asked me to give this to dad, since he isn't picking up her calls. Not that it's anything new.” The last part was muttered under his breath, but she got it all the same. She looked at the envelope he was holding, then back to his face.

“He isn't here right now. But I can hold on to it until he comes back.” she told him plainly.

The somewhat bitter expression on his face clearly stated that he hadn't expected any less. “Thanks Lal. I'll be going then. Don't want to take too much of your time.” he said after handing her the letter.

She received it, all the way staring at him intensely, her brows creased in concentration as if looking for something. Tsuna fidgeted a bit before asking, “Um, i-is something w-wrong?”

He was met with silence until she seemingly found what she had been looking for, apparently not at all pleased by it if the thinly veiled frustration and disapproval on her face was anything to go by.

“What happened?”

“H-huh?”

“There's something about you. Something different. What happened?” she repeated.

At once, his demeanour made a U-turn. Gone was the the sweet, clumsy child. In his place stood a jaded teenager, sad for the world and angry at himself, radiating a sense of power and superiority she had only caught glimpses of before – there was also a hint of guilt and blood in the air around him. And it took her breath away.

“So my father hasn't told you yet? Or perhaps he doesn't even know. It wouldn't be the first time. For all the spies he's stationed there, he knows absolutely nothing.” he said with a bitter, deprecating smile. If at himself, at his father or the world, she could not discern.

He then turned to leave, but not before saying, “I can't be sure, but I think that letter has it covered. So ask him when he comes back.” He gripped the pendant that hung from his neck. “I'm sorry, but I'm not going there now. I can't.” were his last words, whispered in a hoarse voice, before he left the building.

Perhaps life was getting less boring after all, Lal contemplated in her stunned silence.

* * *

It came out of nowhere.

One moment, he was looking out the classroom window, wondering where Tsuna had disappeared off to for the last four days and paying no attention to class whatsoever. The next, he felt  _it_ .

It was a strange feeling, like something pulling at his heart or a speck of light leading him somewhere. He looked down at his necklace, where it seemed to originate from, and the feeling intensified, turned more urgent as he watched a soft blue glow emanating from his pendant.

Quickly, urgently, he gazed around until he met a certain pair of eyes, and noticed that his belt was also giving off a soft glow, this time red.

That confirmed his suspicions. It had never happened before, because there had never been a need for it. But somehow, for some unexplainable reason, he  _knew_ what was happening.

The Vongola Guardians were being summoned.

He watched as Gokudera hurriedly stood up and rushed out of the classroom, not even bothering to give their sensei some kind of excuse. Takeshi himself did almost the same, though he was considerate enough to at least spout some ridiculous excuse along the lines of stopping the other from blowing up the bathroom.

The teacher just sighed resignedly. They'll be gone soon, he told himself. Only a few months until graduation.

Now, if only time would fly faster.

* * *

Unexpectedly, they didn't have to walk (read: run) for too long until they reached their unknown destination.

There, leaning against the old railings of the roof, head tilted upwards to look at the sky, was Tsuna, with Reborn standing off to the side.

Hibari was already there, seemingly irritated for the interruption of his patrolling, but still there. Chrome appeared near Tsuna in that misty way of hers with her whole entourage (Mukuro, Ken, Chikusa, MM and even Fran), who apparently had insisted on coming along. Lambo, who had been enrolled in Namimori Elementary earlier that year on Mamma's insistence, came in gasping for breath since he had run all the way to Tsuna-nii's school (not that both schools were very far apart). The last one to arrive was Ryohei, staring at their Sky all the way with a quiet intensity that seemed somehow even louder than his usual behaviour – although said behaviour had stopped being usual lately, and for a good reason.

Once they were all there, a tense silence enveloped them. Every single one of the Guardians stared at the Sky's back expectantly, waiting, anticipating, hoping. The Mist group, except for Mukuro, started wondering if it had really been a good idea to come here. They felt like they were intruding in something intimate, something that shouldn't be looked upon by outsiders. But before they could attempt to leave, Tsuna turned around.

“I'm sorry that I called you all here all of sudden.”

“That's not a problem, Juudaime. You can do so whenever you want to!” countered Gokudera without missing a beat, which earned him a grateful smile in return.

“Tsuna... did you...?” his attention was diverted to his Sun, who seemed torn between worry and relief. He shook his head.

“No, I decided against it in the end. Killing is a last resort, no exceptions. But you won't be hearing from the Formica Famiglia any time soon. Or ever.”

At his words, a chill ran down the spines of most present. They had all, in one way or another, found about the  _incident_ of two weeks ago. Both about Kyouko and... the Mafiosi that had started it all. Both their fates were well known among this group.

Takeshi hesitated for a moment before braving the question that had been plaguing him for a while now, “Tsuna... that time... what... why...?” or attempting to, at least.

Tsuna's gaze shifted to his Rain before he looked down.”I... I was sad. I was angry. I hated those men for what they did to-to Kyouko-chan. I couldn't think straight and let my emotions overcome me.” then he looked back up, and his eyes were glowing orange with an indescribable intensity. “But that's no excuse. I shouldn't have done that. Right now, I can't do anything about it but regret it from the deepest confines of my soul. So, as long as it isn't completely, utterly necessary, as long as it's not your life against theirs, taking lives is not among my options. But should it come to that, I will protect you and the rest of my precious people to the best of my ability.”

A moment passed in awe-filled silence as his Guardians listened, watched him, and were left utterly breathless by the sheer resolve in his eyes.

He took a deep breath, let it out slowly and continued, “That's why... that's why I've accepted the position. I will take over the Vongola as Decimo. Everything is already prepared. So I ask you,” and he looked at each of them, to emphasize his next words, “Will you come with me?”

One heartbeat.

Two heartbeats.

Three heartbeats.

A sliver of doubt-

“Of course, Juudaime!”

“Maa, what made you think otherwise, Tsuna?”

“Let's have an extreme match when everything's done, Sawa- erm, Tsuna!”

“Yes, Boss!”

“Does the Vongola have grape candy too? If not, we have to take a whole package there! You hear that, Tsuna-nii?”

“Hn.” but that wasn't the Cloud's only reply. He stood up and walked over to the now smiling Sky, “But you're making a branch in Namimori.” he said, startling the brunet.

Before he could shriek in a girly (hey!) manner, an idea suddenly overcame said instinct and he nodded. “That's actually not a bad idea. I can present it as a simple expansion, like the base in Spain.” the idea of having a Mafia base in Namimori didn't really sit well with him, but Hibari-san would demand to take over and the Disciplinary Committee would most probably follow. With his Cloud's borderline obsession with 'preserving the peace in Namimori', that particular branch would likely resemble a vigilante group more than the Mafia, which was what he was aiming for with the entire organization anyway. “But you'll have to come to Italy for a while until it's all settled, Hibari-san.”

The older teen (almost man) just looked at him and then turned around. “That's acceptable. I'll be taking Kusakabe with me.” and he left, probably not to the the high school Tsuna was pretty sure he was supposed to be attending.

After a moment, Chrome decided to approach him, “A-ano, Boss. About M-mukuro-sama and the others-”

“They can come if they want to.” Tsuna answered with a kind smile. “I'm sure grandpa won't mind and my door is always open.”

She bowed, almost hiding the dazzling beaming expression on her face, but not quite. “Arigatou, Boss.”

“Kufufu, let's see what I can make of this, Tsunayoshi-kun.” he inwardly winced at his sort-of-other-Mist-Guardian's scheming tone.

“Tsuna,” and hadn't Reborn been calling him Dame-Tsuna a lot less lately? “come. We need to keep up your Italian lessons.” This time, the wince actually appeared on his face, but he still left the roof with his chest feeling suspiciously light.

It had been the right decision, and right now, no one could convince him otherwise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes. yes that frabric in the little glass vial is Kyouko's omamori.


	4. Ticking Bomb

Sasagawa Kyouko's death affected many people. Her parents, for one. The community which she was cheerfully part of. The classmates whom she'd shared many memories with. The friends that knew everything about her and vice versa. Wherever one looked in Namimori, there was always this feeling of something missing, a vacancy that could not be filled.

But three people were struck the most deeply by her loss.

Her brother, Sasagawa Ryohei, with whom she'd shared a beautiful, unbreakable bond of love between siblings.

Her almost lover, Sawada Tsunayoshi, who she'd been waiting on for over two years until that fated night when their first date turned into his first true loss.

And her best friend, Kurokawa Hana, who had been there for her for as long as she could have remembered, sharing both joyful and sad times in equal measure.

However, unlike what she'd observed of the first two, it was unbelievably more difficult for Hana to move on, because the shock of the loss still hadn't left her. And who could blame her? From the moment she'd found until the present time, she'd felt that the world was rushing by her and she was being left behind.

That night, that horrible, despicable night, she'd gone out for emergency grocery shopping since her mother had declared that they didn't have a single piece of meat at home. Under the unrelenting rain and the weak rays of the rising moon, with an umbrella in hand that she was eternally grateful to have remembered, she'd met her best friend's brother.

He had been running in the rain and was, understandably, soaked from head to toe. When she'd scolded him as usual, instead of excitedly declaring his athlete's resolve as she'd come to expect over the years, he had remained silent.

_Silent._

It was spooky, but, once she'd finally gotten the reason out of him, so painfully understandable.

She had remembered her first friend, her best friend, being all nervous and excited and happy just a few hours before.

And now she was gone.

_Dead._

**Dead.**

She'd wanted to blame someone, anyone, and in her turbulent state, her hazy, somewhat inaccessible mind had come to the conclusion that it was all Sawada's fault.

Yes, Sawada. Because the date had been with _him._ Because _he_ should have protected her from whatever had happened, even at the cost of his life. Because _he_ always got kind, innocent Kyouko into some kind of trouble, always bringing her anguish. Because _he_ was the one constantly having swarms of suspicious people around him.

It was all _his_ fault.

She would have preferred to stay in her room some more days, weeks, months even. But she knew. She knew that, wherever she was, Kyouko wouldn't approve. She'd want her to move on, giving her a dazzling smile and saying something almost unbearably sweet, all the while defying the laws of physics by having floating sparkles and flowers and outright general _pinkness_ hovering behind her.

So, after two days of mourning, Hana pulled herself together and went to school. She'd hoped to catch Sawada and tear him a new one, but he wasn't there, nor was he there the day after.

But he appeared on the fifth day.

When she found him, he was sitting on his assigned seat, looking out the window. An enormous storm had almost surfaced from within her, but she kept it at bay as she walked purposefully towards him, one arm raised in preparation to slap him-

And then his eyes met hers, and she saw grief and anger and and guilt and a small, quivering child that was not quite lost but not quite there either. Her hand froze in mid-swing and her eyes widened, unwittingly gathering tears at their corners. Because she'd seen those eyes before, when she'd looked into the mirror that morning, and she realized that he already blamed himself as much as she blamed him, that he was left as broken as her.

She couldn't take it anymore. There was no one to blame, nothing to direct her anger towards, and the only shoulder to cry on she'd ever had was now long gone. So she ran out of the classroom and through the corridors and up the stairs, hoping that they'd all remain empty so no one would see her crying because she felt so _ashamed_ that she'd given him the blame when he didn't deserve it.

That's how Ryohei found her in the corridors, when she almost ran into him blinded by her tears. In that moment, her mind overcome with panic, the only thing she could think of was that _she had to hide her face_ , but she couldn't think clearly now. So instead of hiding behind her hands, she pressed her face against his shoulder, muttering curses and threats and _don't-you-dare_ s while tears streamed down her face and sobs racked her body.

And to the utmost surprise of the only aware part of her mind, the tension she didn't know had been there left his body and he slumped against her as his arms hesitantly wrapped around her in a comforting manner. But with the trembling of his frame she didn't know if it was to comfort her or himself and she didn't care.

She couldn't blame anyone.

She couldn't take it all out on anything.

But she was being offered a shoulder to cry on and _goddamn_ she couldn't afford to refuse.

* * *

 After that day – _that nobody would know about_ – she started observing both of them. Ryohei, though still deeply struck and certainly not over it yet, was succeeding amazingly at moving on. It must have been in the genes, as she knew Kyouko would have been the same and her chest was starting to hurt so she decided to leave this train of thought.

Sawada on the other hand... he was an enigma. Outwardly, he'd gotten over it pretty quickly, with only an air of wistfulness surrounding him at times. However, that glimpse into his eyes that were so much like hers had opened up her own and showed what he tried to hide behind a façade. Oh, it was very well hidden. Well enough to keep even his closest friends oblivious. But she had seen herself in him, looked into deepest chasms of his soul, and she could see what others didn't.

What she saw sent a shiver down her spine.

This guy, there was something about him, something so inherently dangerous that it could inspire some kind of irrational fear in the most cynical person in Namimori. The grief was still there, as was the guilt. But he no longer seemed lost, he seemed determined. And the anger, oh the anger that wasn't even that anymore but pure, unaltered wrath. Wrath that gave birth to hatred, accompanied by an intense sense of vindictiveness.

At that time, he disappeared again for a few days. When he came back, though, that mask was so carefully crafted, so well-fitted to his face, that had she not seen what lied underneath, she would have thought he was almost completely over it.

But he wasn't.

All that she had seen, all that had instilled a primal fear into her heart, was tightly and carefully contained. He had not let go of those feelings while he'd been away. No, he'd suppressed them, and whenever they grew he suppressed them further.

Sawada was a time bomb, and he would explode soon.

Very soon.

Kurokawa Hana would only find out years later that she'd hit the nail dead center.

The last few months had been a huge, colourful, busy blur for Chrome Dokuro, starting from the moment Boss told them he had officially accepted his position as Vongola Decimo. She had been very happy (weighed down a bit by the loss of her friend), of course, even more when he'd allowed her to bring anyone with her as long as they wished to join too.

Convincing Mukuro-sama hadn't been very hard, mostly because she knew that deep, very deep (very, _very_ deep) down, he cared quite a lot for Boss. The rest had simply followed Mukuro-sama as they always did.

No more than two weeks later, Boss, along with the rest of the Guardians, started going on regular trips to Italy. Mostly on weekends, but they also took one or two weeks off for school when it was deemed necessary. Of course, they didn't all go with him all the time. That had only happened the first time, when they'd been introduced to Vongola Headquarters and told in no uncertain terms of their importance and their duties towards the Famiglia.

From then on they had kept travelling between Japan and Italy. Most of the time, only two or three guardians went with him while the rest stayed in Namimori and tried to catch up in school.

“ _We're doing the Inheritance Ceremony after graduation for a reason. I don't want this all to interrupt your education. Or mine. Reborn would skin me alive if I did that. After middle school and the whole inheritance stuff is all said and done, we'll be living mostly in Italy. Since nobody here can speak Italian well enough to attend a high school there, though, we'll be mostly home-schooled. Are you guys ok with that? Good. Thank you.”_

That was what Boss had said, the reason why they hadn't left Namimori immediately. It just further served to prove that he was always thinking of others.

As for why they were travelling so much, especially Boss, it was to make the transition of generations a bit smoother. Basically, from what she'd understood and experienced, the ninth generation was introducing them to their new positions, making them familiar with the authority and duties that came along with it as well as letting them tag along on some minor – and a few not so minor – missions to accumulate experience.

Boss himself had a lot more to do though, as the position he was going to fulfill was the most challenging and difficult of all. For one, she'd noticed that he'd been drinking a lot more coffee lately and the bags under his eyes seemed to be permanent by now.

All his guardians had expressed their worry in one way or another – _You should take a break, Tsuna. – I can't fight an omnivore when he's dead._ – but he just waved them off and reminded them of their own duties.

Chrome, was worried. Really worried. But not just about Boss.

“Haru-chan... I wonder, are you doing alright?” she muttered as she looked out the window of her personal chambers. Graduation was next week and the Inheritance Ceremony two weeks after that. Still, she hadn't caught sight of her friend as of yet. Ever since the funeral – and let's not think about that lest you get depressed again – it was like Haru-chan had disappeared off the face of the earth. She couldn't find her, no matter where she looked (admittedly, she didn't know where she lived, so her friend was probably at home when she wasn't a school, a time where she couldn't quite catch her because she herself was at school and had promised Boss that she'd do her best).

Her worry-wrapped thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. “Chrome, Mukuro, Croquant-san is looking for you. He said he'd be at the rose garden.” said the soothingly familiar voice she immediately recognized, even before she turned around to look at him.

“Thanks, Boss. We'll be there right away.” she replied with a shy smile, getting one from him in return as he nodded and stepped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

“Kufufu, let's go, my dear Chrome. I'm curious as to what that man has prepared for us today.”

“Hai, Mukuro-sama.” she automatically responded, and even when her head still whirred with thoughts of worry and sadness, she couldn't keep the small smile off her face even after they reached the rose garden.

That was, after all, the effect Boss had on all his Guardians.

* * *

 Rejection was a dreadful thing.

It had been months, _months_ , since Haru had gotten that invitation into the Vongola. Even though she'd been urged to reply as soon as possible, she still hadn't. She knew Tsuna-san hadn't brought it up because he didn't want to pressure her and she knew that she was being so incredibly selfish, but she couldn't help it.

Miura Haru feared rejection.

She was afraid that, after all, the letter really was just a cruel prank, like the ones she'd fallen victim to throughout her childhood, or that Tsuna-san had changed his mind but was too nice to tell her or that his friends would all hate her like that Gokudera seemed to – although lately he'd been quite civil around her, but the now dominant irrational part of her brain chose to ignore that little fact.

So every time she'd stepped out of the house fully intending on finally giving him her reply, a little monster inside her heart made out of doubt and fear started whispering how everything would go wrong and she would always remain friendless and-

Haru shook her head wildly, trying to rid herself of those thoughts. Now was not the time to doubt. No, it definitely wasn't, because this was most probably her last chance.

A few days ago, she'd overheard Tsuna-san's three wonderful little siblings talking about how they'd all soon be living in Italy and her heart had frozen over because oh god she was running out of time!

In the few days that remained before the fated date, Haru did her utmost best to erase every remnant of her existence in Namimori. Graduation was over with, so she needn't worry about school. She carefully chose what to pack from all her belongings, deciding to travel light, and donated everything else to a charity organization. After all, she didn't mind sleeping on the sofa for a few nights.

How her parents hadn't taken notice of anything was beyond her, but then again, they never took notice of anything that didn't concern work, which made leaving that much easier, both emotionally and practically. On the morning she was to leave, she left a simple note on the kitchen table stating that she'd run away and they'd never be able to find her. They would probably notice the note a few weeks from now.

However, as much as she told herself to, she still couldn't take the most crucial step: talking face to face with Tsuna-san and accepting his invitation. No matter how much she scolded or encouraged herself, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

When the fated day finally came, she was fervently hoping that she hadn't just ruined her last chance at life. Since she didn't know where or when they'd planned to meet, she took a train to the airport at the crack of dawn, suitcase in hand and a small handbag for her passport, some papers and a few sweets (the same handbag she'd found her invitation in).

In the airport, she waited. She waited and waited and felt like a fool. What was she doing, sitting here alone, waiting for a miracle to happen? Was she really that airheaded? She kept berating herself and bit by bit, started letting go of her last hope.

Just as she was about to stand up and leave, a wonderful, beautiful voice called out to her, “Haru? Is that you?”

Stunned, she looked up and let her shiny eyes take in the sight of the group before her. Some were her age, some older and some much younger, but they were all familiar to some degree. And right in front of her was her crush and soon-to-be Boss, Sawada Tsunayoshi.

“Tsu... Tsuna... san.” she whispered, almost not believing her eyes. Perhaps Fortuna had taken pity on a lost, lonely girl today.

Now, Haru didn't really know much about the Mafia. She knew pretty much nothing, actually. So she was pretty lost when it came to formally accepting an invitation into a Famiglia, the largest and most powerful of them all, nonetheless. So she called on the lessons of manners and etiquette that she'd been through since the moment she could walk, being brought up as the possible heiress of a large company, and moved herself into the deepest bow she could manage, a dogeza. Everything in her posture showed utmost respect and submission.

“Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Decimo. I, Miura Haru, hereby accept your invitation into the Vongola Famiglia. I will serv-” But that was as far as she got before she felt a hand on her shoulder, lifting her up to see the same person she'd just addressed kneeling in front of her, at her eye level.

His eyes looked both panicked and anguished and she couldn't help but wonder if she'd been the cause for that. Had she done anything wrong? Had her reply come too late? Before she could keep sinking into her thoughts, though, the grip on her shoulder tightened, making her snap to attention.

“Haru,” he started, eyes firmly locked with her own, “Never, ever, bow like that before me. You may be part of the Famiglia now, but you're also part of my family. You are not my subordinate, you are my friend. And I will make sure it stays that way.”

For her part, Haru could only stare at him in wide eyed awe. This teen, no, this man before her, who she'd thought kind compassionate, accepting and powerful, was all that. Yes, he was all that, and so much more. With four simple sentences he'd given her friends, a family, a place to call home, and asked for nothing in return except being able to protect her.

He had saved her and she was eternally grateful for that.

So before he could even utter a _“Do you understand?”_ , she threw her arms around him and thanked him and thanked him again and again, holding back the sobs that were threatening to rise up her throat.

Then, she felt a pair of slender arms wrap around her from behind, startling her out of her crying, only to see Chrome-chan kneeling behind her, offering her a sympathetic smile that somehow managed to convey how much she knew what Haru was feeling right now. Turning her head forward again, she accepted the hand offered along with a kind smile from Tsuna-san and stood up with her other friend in tow (and God it felt _good_ to say that!).

Her eyes then proceeded to widen in horror as she made one very important realization.

“Oh no! I don't have a ticket! I can't go along with you guys.” she said, dismayed.

The brunet's smile, however, never wavered. He just rummaged through his small backpack until he found what he'd been looking for and handed it to her.

It was a ticket.

To Italy.

“Tsuna-san... you... you knew.” she whispered in amazement.

He leaned just a bit closer to her, which curiously enough, did not cause her to blush madly as it would have some months before, and nodded slightly, whispering in an equally soft voice, “I always knew. From the moment I left you that letter.”

The joy that filled her at those words shouldn't have been possible to contain in such a small body, but Haru managed somehow.

* * *

 The next week was a total mess. Between getting used to living in a foreign country, finding or finishing hundreds of different tasks according to their positions and preparing everything for the Inheritance Ceremony that was coming around the corner faster than they would have liked, not to mention the general insanity of their Famiglia, the tenth generation of leaders of the Vongola were far more than busy. They were overwhelmed.

The event had been organized, the invitations had been sent, some even personally, the place had been reserved and prepared and Nono still refused to tell Tsuna what he had planned to actually do for the ceremony, since they didn't have anything to pass down as a sign of trust in the next generation or whatever the act was supposed to symbolize.

Before they knew it, the day had come.

The day of the Inheritance Ceremony.


	5. Sin, Punishment and Redemption

Kozato Enma did not want to be here.

He _really_ did not want to be here. In fact, neither did his Guardians.

Still, it was his responsibility as both the Boss of a closely allied Famiglia and the center of today's celebration's best friend.

That did not mean he had to like it, though. This event brought back painful and shameful memories to him and his family. It didn't help the situation that they were being glared at from every possible angle and regarded as barely tamed beasts in rusty, weak cages that could snap at any moment.

Of course, they had expected no less after the stunt they'd pulled last year (Enma had to suppress a wince at the memory), but the utter, raw animosity conveyed entirely in heated glares, accusing whispers and isolation tactics from pretty much all the most powerful and dangerous men of the underworld would have been unnerving even to the most jaded Mafioso.

That the admittedly small Shimon Famiglia felt uncomfortable was the understatement of the century.

Trying to blend into the background and not really succeeding, he kept an eye out for threats as he tried to tune out the whispers and not-really-whispers of the people surrounding them. After all, they might all have a common ally, but these people were still Mafia and therefore quite dangerous no matter the situation. Especially if they didn't like you. Plus, all the glares and unfriendly gazes directed at him were making him feel like a marked man or a frightened deer expecting a predator to jump out of the bushes at any given time.

In short, Enma felt antsy.

It did not help in the least that he felt utterly underdressed. Everyone around him, no matter how low or high ranked in their Famiglie, was wearing nice, crisp and in many cases expensive suits, many of which were clearly tailor-made, and other valuable artefacts like watches and the like.

He, in contrast, was wearing the nicest shirt he could find (which wasn't really nice at all) accompanied with a pair of dress pants that had used to be too big for him. His family were no different, but that only served to make them stand out even more. They couldn't help that they didn't have much money – certainly not as much as the Famiglie all these people showcased – so buying fancy, expensive clothes was pretty much way above their budget (and don't ask him where Shitt-P got all  _her_ clothes or whatever she felt like wearing because nobody knew –  _nobody_ ).

Enma shrank even further into himself.

He wondered if Tsuna-kun would think badly of them.

He almost slapped himself. Of course not! Tsuna-kun wasn't that kind of person. How could he ever even consider it? It was laughable.

…

Right?

Just as doubt started creeping up on him, a hand unexpectedly landed on his shoulder, almost giving him a heart attack.

“Gyaah!” he turned around, startled by the sudden contact, only to come face to face with the very person he'd been thinking of. “Tsu- Tsuna-kun! Don't scare me like that.”

The addressed teen offered him a smile in return, suppressing a gigg- a chuckle. Suppressing a  _chuckle_ . “Sorry, Enma. I was calling you but you didn't respond, so I thought something was the matter.”

“A- ah, no, it was nothing. I was just thinking.”

“Hm, but are you sure nothing is the matter?” he asked again, gaze surveying the surrounding crowd of Mafioso. His eyes narrowed slightly when he caught some of the whispers about the Shimon and their Boss and Enma felt a spark of warmth spread through his chest.

He smiled reassuringly, no longer feeling antsy or threatened. He didn't know what it was, but he always felt like this around Tsuna-kun, whose presence was soothingly warm and welcoming. “It's ok Tsuna-kun. Really.”

The Sky glanced at him doubtfully, but let the matter go. “Ah! There's someone I'd like you to meet. Haru!” he called, and soon after, a Japanese girl with dark hair pulled into a short ponytail trotted up to them. He turned back to his friend, “Enma, this is Haru, the newest member of my family. Haru, this is Enma, my best friend. He's from Palermo.”

She grinned, “Oh, I've always wanted to go Palermo!”

The redhead scratched his neck, not really knowing what to say, “Um, that's nice, I guess. I- it's nice to meet you, Haru.”

She beamed at him, her eyes sparkling with mirth, “It's nice to meet you too. So you're the famous Enma, huh?”

He was taken aback, “F- famous... ?”

“Yup. Tsuna-san wouldn't stop talking about his best friend and how strong he is and how alike the both of you are. If I didn't know better, I'd say he was bragging!” she giggled.

Tsuna-kun grinned sheepishly, releasing a nervous laugh while a pink blush adorned his face, identical to the one on Enma's, who didn't know if should have felt honoured or embarrassed.

“Little bro!” yelled a voice from not too far away, from a young, somewhat familiar blond man.

His best friend's face brightened when he took in the sight, “Dino-san! It's been a while!” he then looked at the other boy gultily.

Enma just smiled and pushed him slightly towards the waiting man, “Go on. Don't let me stop you.” receiving an apologetic look for his efforts as the other walked away, he turned to look at the other person left with him. Then he realized something.

“Hey, I actually know you. You hanged around Tsuna-kun a lot back then, along with this other girl. What was her name again?” he asked, having finally somewhat recognized the girl before him.

Said girl's smile became a bit strained and her voice dropped slightly in volume, “Kyouko... her name was Kyouko.”

“Yes, right. Where is she? Did she also come with Tsuna-kun?” he asked, but stopped when he saw her smile drop completely to be replaced a pained expression, “Wait... was? Did... something happen?”

Haru exhaled slowly as she grimaced, “We... we should probably... sit down for this.”

He nodded worriedly as they found a corner where they could talk with relative privacy.

* * *

 

Takeshi watched as Senpai and Gokudera interacted with the Shimon Guardians, talking, laughing and occasionally yelling at each other, after Tsuna had left with Dino. The scene brought a smile to his face, the real kind that he'd been using a lot more in the last three years, but he refrained from joining them.

There was someone else he wanted to talk to, after all.

“Hey Squalo!” he said cheerfully, almost obnoxious grin firmly in place. “How are you doing?”

“Che.” was the white haired man's reply. He caught sight of that incredibly annoying grin and immediately averted his gaze, lest his eyes melt from the sheer stupidity radiating from those miraculously white teeth.

Takeshi just kept grinning, a hint of amusement entering his expression. Sometimes, only sometimes, he actually did it on purpose just to see what kind of reaction he could get out of people. It never failed to amuse him, especially with the temperamental ones. Squalo was a perfect example of this, second only to Gokudera.

His grin lessened, however, when he saw the man's furrowed brow, one hand around his chin while the other hovered near the handle of the sword strapped to his waist (because he always insisted on carrying an extra sword around whenever he attended important event such as this one, which was admittedly not often). He knew that pose. He'd seen it countless times while training together in the future, whenever they sat at the fire and he would start to contemplate the current state of things.

Squalo was worried about something. He was probably having some kind of premonition, if his focused expression was anything to go by. He'd called it a master swordsman's sixth sense. Takeshi had secretly called it woman's intuition whenever his attention was drawn to the man's long, silky hair. Of course, he'd never voiced this particular idea. He was optimistic, not suicidal, thank you very much.

“Think something will happen?” he asked, half hoping he didn't actually know his pseudo teacher and fellow Rain as well as he thought he did. Whenever Squalo had an actual premonition and not just a bad feeling, something big would happen. And by big he meant enormous. Like when he'd practically predicted the gigantic power held by the true wielders of the Mare Rings. In a way, it reminded him of Tsuna's Hyper Intuition, only less specific and far more random.

Squalo regarded him from the corner of his eye and was, for once, forgoing his usually loud speech. “Just watch out for threats. Though for some reason I keep getting the feeling that your baby Boss is the biggest problem here...”

Takeshi let out a short laugh, not minding his former mentor's glare in the least, “Are you maybe worried that we're not ready?”

He growled, “Of course I'm worried, you shithead! That stupid old man is handing the whole Famiglia over to a bunch of kids! What is there not to be worried about, huh?”

The younger Rain's grin stayed intact, but his eyes flashed dangerously, “Really? Is that what you think?”

The assassin's gaze swept over him, assessing him, before he let out a snort, “Of course. How can I sleep in peace knowing that a brat without resolve like you is handling things around here?”

Takeshi looked at him for a moment, before letting a smaller, truer smile form on his lips, “Ah, but you forget, Squalo. Tsuna has already found his resolve and it lies with the Vongola. If the Sky knows where to go, the Rain will follow.”

The man snorted derisively, “So, what? You're going back to the way of the sword now that you need it again? It doesn't work like that, brat.”

His smile turned wistful and he shook his head, “Tsuna's made up his mind. He's staying. So I am too. We all are. And I don't care what I have to do as long as I can continue helping him.”

“Even if you have to give up that stupid sport of yours?” Squalo looked at him inquisitively.

“Even if I have to give up baseball. I'll give the sword my all for the rest of my life if it means I can keep protecting our family.” And his sharp eyes showed nothing but sincerity.

A moment passed with only silence between them.

Then Squalo barked out a rough laugh and broke into a razor sharp smirk. He really did look like a shark sometimes, Takeshi mused  absentmindedly.

“You're growing up, kid. It was about time. Don't die on me before you're finished. I still need to teach you a lesson or two about the laws of this world.”

He released a short laugh, “I wouldn't dream of it. After all, I can't miss such an important lecture, sensei.”

Squalo half snarled, half snorted, and then muttered to himself, but loud enough for the other to hear, “One day. One day I swear I'll wipe that idiotic grin off your face.”

“Good luck!” he responded in an upbeat manner, earning him a sword too close to his arm for comfort. Squalo continued slashing at him while he ducked and dodged the swings and stabs, wry grin still in place. “Maa maa, let's not go too far. Tsuna wouldn't like it if either of us got hurt. Especially on such a special day as today, ne?”

The master swordsman growled aggravatingly, but relented in his attacks, stopping his advance altogether after a few seconds and storing the sword back into his sleeve. He never stopped glaring, though.

But before the situation could escalate into something more dangerous – especially counting that they were surrounded by the Bosses of different Famiglie and the smallest mistake might cause a full scale war – a loud crash sounded from somewhere to their side, followed by a string of equally loud and extremely colourful curses from a glaringly familiar voice.

Squalo pinched the bridge of his nose and muttered something along the lines of 'stupid paperwork' and 'reparation costs'. Turning to the general direction of the noise, he took off, drawing his sword again and swinging it wildly to make people  _move away_ because  _goddammit_ he had a fucking Boss to calm down and nothing was going to stop him.

“VOI! Shitty Boss! Don't trash the place before the whole thing's even started. Did you hear me?! VOI!”

Takeshi simply chuckled at the display. No matter how much time passed, it seemed some things always stayed the same.

Now, Chrome mentioned something about snacks before the ceremony. Where did she say the refreshments table was again?

* * *

 

It was about time. All the guests were inside the large room (more like hall) of the high-class hotel they had rented out for the occasion. When Tsuna had asked why they couldn't just hold the ceremony at Headquarters, he had gotten a barking laugh from Coyote-san before they'd explained to him that something like that would be the prefect scenario to sneak spies into their territory, something they wanted to avoid at all costs even if the whole crowd was composed of allied Famiglie.

He shook his head to get himself back on track. He was standing before the ginormous closed doors. His Guardians were standing behind him, a bunch of reassuring presences in the midst of a very insecure situation. All he had to do now was wait for the old grandfather clock in the corner of the room to strike eight o' clock, enter the room and play along with whatever grandpa had planned.

**Dong.**

It was eight sharp.

Squashing the last bit of nervousness that nested in his belly, Tsuna took a deep breath and pushed the large mahogany doors open. He walked down the red-carpeted aisle, followed closely by his Guardians, more than aware that absolutely everyone's eyes were drawn to his expensively clad form – and suddenly he felt so very small.

Closing his eyes momentarily, he pushed those thoughts away. Now was really not the time to slip back into his Dame persona. Opening them again, he found that he was almost on top of grandpa and if he didn't stop right now he _would_ be. Literally.

Forcing his legs to a stop that somehow managed to seem graceful to the Bosses watching his every move, but who were far enough away not to notice the minute awkwardness of his movements, he looked up at his predecessor.

_'Now what?'_ was the message Tsuna tried to convey through his eyes and send directly into the mind of the old man standing before him. It didn't seem to be working, though, as said man kept smiling somewhat mischievously at him. The man then turned to crowd assembled in the large hall and began to speak.

“Members and allies of the Vongola Famiglia.” he addressed them, “You all stand here to witness the creation of the tenth generation of the Vongola that shall be led by Decimo, Sawada Tsunayoshi. For centuries, what was passed down to symbolize the birth of a new generation was the Sin of the Vongola, a vial of the blood of Primo's closest ally and the representation of all the blood we have spilled, the lies we have weaved and the sins we have committed since the reign of Secondo.”

He paused and seemed to be carefully choosing his words, then continued in a grave voice, “However, this was not the will of Primo, who, four hundred years ago, founded the Vongola as a vigilante group to protect his town and the people within it. From the moment I took on the mantle of Boss of this Famiglia, I have wanted to help it rise from the ashes of what it once used to be. Alas, the darkness of our world was too dense for me to break through and I was never able to fulfill that wish.

“For this reason, I wished to pass down not the Sin, but the Punishment of the Vongola, which contained both the blood and the will of our founder. Sadly, it is not in existence anymore, as it has served to aid the Famiglia in recent times of need. But I have discovered that I have no need to pass down anything to the next generation.

“From this moment on, the Vongola Famiglia is no more. Decimo, no, Neo Primo shall, in my place, build it back up from its foundations. We will start anew from this generation onwards. And to remind the following generations of our new resolve, this ceremony will serve to create yet another symbol of remembrance.”

Having said this, he turned to the right, where his Storm, Coyote Nougat, was waiting with his hand outstretched holding a red velvet cushion. What drew Tsuna's attention, however, was the object  _on_ the cushion.

It was a long, silver knife. Its handle was encrusted with gems of different shades of red in an intricate pattern and the smooth, shiny blade glistened in the light of the chandelier. It was breathtakingly beautiful and gave the impression of a priceless, ancient artefact. It was an object that caught the eye of everyone present and would stay in in their memories for years to come.

The man held the knife expertly in one hand, the other stretched out in his direction. After a split second of hesitation, Tsuna offered up his hand, which was grasped firmly as the knife touched the skin and then pierced it cleanly.

Pearls of scarlet blood slid down his palm and dropped into a glass vial in the Storm's hand that had previously gone unnoticed. He watched in morbid fascination as more blood flowed down into the vial until two thirds were filled.

At that point, someone pressed a red handkerchief into his palm, effectively stopping the  flow . Looking up, his eyes met the Sun's, Brow Nie Jr., as a yellow flame ignited in the man's ring a neared the small wound, healing it in a matter of seconds. The brunet nodded in thanks and looked back in front of him, where grandpa (no, Nono. Right now he was Nono.) was gently placing the already sealed vial in the ornate box that had once contained the Sin.

Lifting it slightly in his hands for everyone in the room to see, he then turned to the younger Boss, “With this blood, the blood of Neo Vongola Primo and current Decimo, the oath is sealed. This is our redemption. The Redemption of the Vongola.”

He closed the lid and handed it to his successor; and for one, fleeting moment, Tsuna saw in front of him, not a mighty Mafia Boss nor a powerful Sky, but an old, tired, grateful man relieved of his burden. His gaze turned downwards, towards the box in his hands that suddenly seemed to weight far more than it should have, and then towards the rest of the hall and all the eyes that were raptly watching him.

He took a calming breath, cleared his head and spoke, “I, Sawada Tsunayoshi, accept the duties, responsibilities, privileges and authority passed down to me as Vongola Decimo.”

Then, his mind turned calm and calculating. A small but strong flame appeared on his forehead and his now orange eyes, blazing with strength and resolve, swept over the assembled Bosses and members of many different Famiglie.

“And I also accept the burden placed upon me as Neo Vongola Primo.”

His eyes turned to look at Nono before they turned back to the small crowd, “I won't let you down.”

It was deathly silent.

As he stood there, Redemption in hand, and waited for something,  _anything_ to happen, all those observing him suddenly saw something that should not have been possible. Hovering over the new Boss, was a ghostly vision, almost illusionary but not quite, of a blond, blue-eyed man, his forehead alight with Sky flames and a small, seemingly proud and satisfied smile on his lips.

The vision disappeared as quickly as it had come and the silence turned even more deafening.

Tsuna's heart was beating erratically, even with his flames ignited.

Ba-dump.

Ba-dump.

Clapping.

On the very front row, he saw his best friend Enma. Wonderful, idiotic Enma.

Who was  _clapping._

More clapping.

A bit further back, in the right wing, Dino had joined in.

Then Naito.

Uni.

Byakuran.

His father.

Basil.

_Xaxnxus_ – albeit reluctantly.

Squalo.

Nono's Guardians.

_His_ Guardians.

His  _family._

The clapping wasn't overwhelming. It didn't fill the whole room. But it was more than enough to bring a small, startled smile to his lips.

Unlike the nine previous Inheritance Ceremonies of the Vongola, this time, most didn't stay behind after the affair to exchange 'pleasantries', make small deals and hand out subtle death threats. Almost everyone left immediately after, many outraged, some confused, some contemplative and a small few even hopeful, leaving the newly appointed Decimo with only those he called his friends (or at least close acquaintances).

The appointment of Sawada Tsunayoshi as head of the most powerful Famiglia shook the Italian Mafia – and the rest of the world by extension – down to its foundation. This was the turning point, the beginning of a new era for the underworld.

And it all started with one Sawada Tsunayoshi, descendant of Primo, Vongola decimo and Neo Primo, Sky Guardian of the clam.

And the Redemption of the Vongola.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus, we find out why the hell this fic was called Redemption in the first place. yay!


	6. Ala Bianca

Slash.

Swipe.

Stab.

Thrust.

A deadly dance.

His hands moved with unprecedented coordination.

Speed and focus were a must in this battlefield.

He looked around him. He was surrounded.

With quick, precise movements, he decimated his enemy.

More enemies poured in. There was no end to them.

He clutched his weapon of choice tightly in his hand. A bead of sweat ran down his neck.

A struggle for survival.

Take out one opponent. Move on to the next.

Finally, their numbers started dwindling. He decided to retreat temporarily, catch a breather before he plunged back into the battlefield.

Heaving a sigh, Tsuna placed the pen on his desk and let his head droop in exhaustion. He'd thought fighting Bermuda had been hard, but compared to this, that had been a walk in the park.

Sawada Tsunayoshi had now found the current bane of his existence.

**Paperwork.**

This had certainly  _ not _ been in the job description Reborn had given him. Then again, when did Reborn ever tell him the important stuff? At least Nono had offered to help lighten the workload, otherwise he would have probably passed out from exhaustion by this point. He silently thanked whichever deity would listen for small mercies.

Sighing again, he lifted his head, some small, child-like part of him hoping that it had all been a bad dream and that there weren't piles upon piles of documents to be read and signed on his desk.

Nope. The paperwork was still there. Looking away hadn't made it disappear. In his less lucid moments, when the monotony of the task crawled under his skin and made his brain less than non-functional, he sometimes wished he were a wizard so that he could vanish that gigantic stack of paper into his hat with a  _ poof _ and be done with it.

Then he would wake up and curse himself in every language he could speak fluently (which now amounted to three) because he had no time to doze off and if he missed dinner because he couldn't finish his work on time, Reborn would have his hide.

With yet another heavy sigh, he picked up the discarded pen and looked at the next document. It was a simple report that mentioned some strange movements from one of the smaller Famiglie in their vicinity. They were no allies, nor were they enemies, although for such a small Famiglia, he remembered from his lessons that they had been around for quite a while – they were almost half as old as the Vongola.

_Ala Bianca._

White Wing... hadn't he heard that name before? Well, there was that one lesson... but no, that wasn't it. It had been in a completely different situation. Now, if he could just recall when...

He gasped.

* * *

 

_He was tearing them apart like paper and they offered no worthwhile resistance. He hadn't killed them yet. No, there was still some hesitation to kill, to take lives, but he was being spurred on by something, something – his hatred, his anger, his thirst for blood. Once upon a time, he would have let go of those feelings, lest they poison his heart. But now, he couldn't._

_Not this time._

_Not when they had taken away his light – his Moon._

_And so, he tore through them like a gardener to unwanted weeds._

_He didn't want to kill them, it went against everything he stood for. But this voice inside him, this part that had never gotten release, was reassuring him, whispering seductively in his ear. It had been there for a while now, from the moment he took his first life, from the moment he allowed his heart to harbour the first drop of hatred, it had been there._

_And the whispered promises were getting too tempting._

_So he'd come. To exact his revenge, he'd come. And if he was going to do this, he might as well start with the head, the one who had orchestrated that attack._

_ As he was about to plunge his hand into his chest, the man spoke, desperately, instinctively –  _ truthfully, _ added the logic and coolness of his mind. He spoke of betrayal, of having been framed, of broken promises and enormous regret. _

_The man spoke of another group, another Famiglia, that had made them do this._

_The Formica weren't at fault, at least that's what he was saying._

_ No,  _ they _ made us do it. _

The Ala Bianca.

_It was preposterous. It was ridiculous. It was the mumblings of a desperate man about to die._

_ It was the _ truth.

_But these men- these men..._

_ // _ As his eyes widened in horror, he could do nothing but watch her eyes widen in shock and her back arch in pain.

_They had..._

_ //  _ He could do nothing but see her body falling as if in slow motion.

_But they weren't really..._

_ // _ He could do nothing to save the life that was quickly fading from those beautiful,  _ beautiful  _ eyes or to stop the red _ redcrimsonred _ stain blooming on the front and back of her summer dress.

… _at fault..._

_ // _ He could do  _ nothing. _

_They... they were..._

_ // _ He was  _ helpless _ to watch.

_He could..._

_ // _ Her lips, bloody and pale as they were, were stretched in a  _ smile _ .

… _he couldn't..._

_ // _ “Goodbye... Tsu-kun...”

_He couldn't... he couldn't forgive them._

_ // _ Her eyes unfocused as she looked beyond him and the sky, to a place where he could not reach her.

_Not this time. The wound ran too deep. It hurt too much._

_As he looked at the near carnage around him and was nauseated by what he saw, he knew this wasn't like him. But he'd come this far, and he couldn't stop._

_He'd come with a purpose._

_No, he wouldn't kill. He would ignore the voice. The twisted, treacherous, loathsome voice._

_These men would live._

_But they would live through hell first._

_And then... then..._

_He couldn't go back to his family. Not like this. If he couldn't forgive, if had to resent, then he'd keep a tight lid on all that. His family didn't have to see. He didn't want to burden them any more than they already were. He'd get over this on his own._

_And he would find them._

_The white wing._

Ala Bianca.

* * *

 

Tsuna's hands were shaking, but he paid them no mind.

Ala Bianca.

The ones who had organized everything from the shadows. The ones who had wanted to get to him and to do that, had used both his beloved and an allied Famiglia.

The ones who truly deserved to die.

And they were some outdated, small-time Famiglia?

_Really?_

**Really?!**

A small laugh escaped his lips, slightly hysterical and too high in tone. He wore a bitter smile as the pen fell from his hand and suddenly he didn't care about paperwork or dinner or his tutor anymore.

But no, they were very old. That couldn't be all there was to it, right? It couldn't just be a small group trying to get a higher spot in the hierarchy by challenging one of the big shots. There had to be something deeper, something more. There should-

The door opened.

“Juudaime?” said a soft, rich voice laced with worry, “Dinner's been served. We're all waiting for you.”

“A- ah, is that so? I'm sorry, Gokudera-kun. I didn't notice it was already this late.” he replied, trying to compose himself. “I'll be there in a moment, then.”

But the other teen lingered, “Juudaime... is everything alright? You look a bit pale.”

Tsuna suppressed the urge to flinch, “Of course, Gokudera-kun. You don't need to worry.”

He didn't look completely convinced, but decided to let it go,“If you say so. Then I'll be going back to tell them to wait a bit longer.”

“Thank you.”

With that, he left the room, letting the young Don sag into his chair. He sighed yet again, “It'll have to wait... just a little longer... it'll have to wait.” he muttered, before he stood up and left the office himself.

* * *

 

Lambo missed Mamma. He also missed Kyouko-neechan. And he missed the other house. The one where he didn't get lost and felt warm like a hug.

But Tsuna-nii and everyone else had moved here and he was a Guardian, so he had to come too, even if it meant leaving Mamma alone. Thouugh, Tsuna-nii had promised that she wouldn't be alone for too long, he'd make sure of it.

Even so, Lambo did miss their old, simple life. He also didn't like getting lost, like it tended to happen quite often lately. The big house was too big! How was he supposed to play hide-n-seek here when he didn't even know where to go?

So, in the end, he decided to do what he did best: attracting attention to get what he wanted.

“Gyahaha! Lambo-sama is going outside!”

“Lambo, no! That's bad!”

“Wait, Lambo-kun. That's dangerous! We were told to stay in the mansion. There's plenty of space in here! Why don't we go play in the garden, ne?”

“No! Lambo-san wants to go out! Lambo-san is going out now!”

“Lambo-kun!”

He ignored them and kept wreaking havoc throughout the big house, in the hopes that he would stumble upon the main entrance by sheer luck. And it seemed luck was on his side today.

There! He sprinted towards the huge double doors, successfully leaving the two girls behind, and opened them with one big push. Light filtered through the entrance hall and he revelled in his victory before jumping out, running some more and slipping between the bars of the metal gates of the front garden.

It was a close thing since he was a big boy now and not five years old anymore, but he managed.

Finally! He was out and he could explore. I-pin and Haru-neechan would probably follow him, but he didn't mind. If he got far enough away from the big house that catching him and going back would turn into a moot point, they could all have fun together!

So he kept running. Through the streets, backstreets, alleys, unofficial paths and everywhere he could explore. This place was pretty. Like, _really_ pretty. It also felt a bit familiar. Not the place itself, of course, since he'd never been around here except for the big house, but the buildings, the people, the smells and sounds, they were all so... normal. Yet, this place was way too different from their home back in Namimori.

He wondered if it had something to do with his life before Tsuna-nii. He couldn't really recall things from more than three years ago. The memories were blurry and it was really hard to remember stuff. But he knew he'd been born and partly raised here in Italy, so maybe it was like this all over the country.

If it was, he didn't mind it at all. He really liked it here. Of course, not as much as home with Mamma, but it was a close second.

“Lambo!”

“Lambo-kun!”

Oh? So they'd caught up, had they?

“You can't catch Lambo-san!” he turned around to stick his tongue out at them and kept running. Man, this was fun!

When he was out of their sight again, he ducked into an alley and watched as they split up. I-pin kept running around, looking under every rock, while Haru-neechan had stopped and was calling for him as she searched for him in the crowd.

“Lambo-kun, we have to go back! Tsuna-san will be upset if something happens!”

He decided to keep quiet and walked deeper into the alley, wondering how long it would take for them to find him. Not two minutes had passed and he already heard footsteps entering the alley cautiously. “Lambo-kun? Come on, we really have to go back now or they'll be worried.”

Lambo felt a flicker of guilt at those words, but kept hiding. He wouldn't come out until they found him.

“Lambo-ku- mph! Hm ghfm tmph! _Hmph!_ ”

What? What was she doing? Wait, were those... muffled screams?

_Haru-neechan!_

He jumped out of his hiding spot as quickly as he could, hoping that whatever it was, he would be strong enough to protect his dear big sister.

Nothing. The alley was empty except for him and the box he'd hidden behind.

“Haru-nee... chan... ?” he called, hoping that this was all just a horrible prank that they'd pulled on him because he was being naughty and that they would appear at the entrance any moment to surprise him and... and...

“Haru-neechan! I-pin! I-pin, where are you?” he stumbled out into the street, feeling tears already prickling his eyes. Immediately, the martial artist appeared beside him.

“Lambo, that was bad-!”

“I don 't care! That's not important right now. I-pin, Haru-neechan was- someone took- they... they...”

Apparently, she could sense the situation was dire because her demeanour turned completely serious, “Lambo, what happened?”

He sniffed and tried to calm himself down. He couldn't waste time crying. Not now, when Nee-chan needed them, “They- Someone took her, I-pin! She disappeared!”

Her eyes widened, horrified at the implications. Faster than he could track, she grasped his hand and started dragging him back to the big house. Or tried to.

Since Lambo had been too busy admiring the atmosphere and the girls had only concentrated on chasing him, they didn't really know where they were, which only helped to make the boy panic even more.

It took quite a long while –  _too long!_ – until they reached the big house, but when they finally did, they didn't hesitate to barge in and attract as much attention as they could.

“Chrome-neechan!"

* * *

 

Unfortunately, Tsuna never got the chance to do proper research on Ala Bianca before everything went to hell.

It had been a cloudy day, but warm nonetheless, and he'd decided to take an early morning walk around one of the Vongola mansion's beautiful gardens. They were peaceful, calm, a refreshing sight to a newly appointed Mafia Don for sure.

Well, they  _ had _ been. Until one of the maids (and he was still rather flustered about that particular aspect of owning a mansion) came to him gasping for breath and handed him a crumpled envelope containing a note written in neat calligraphy, saying that it was urgent.

And the world was suddenly turned sideways and the earth was where the sky should be.

Because they had her.

They'd taken  _ Haru. _

And they wanted  _ him _ in exchange.

_Alone._

**Again.**

A freezing cold hand gripped his heart.

_**Not again.** _

_**Never again.** _

* * *

 

Alessandro Orsonero, the Boss of the Ala Bianca Famiglia, an unremarkable man except for the countless scars that adorned his body, visible or otherwise, had many regrets in life.

He regretted not having enough resources for his Famiglia to grow as others had.

He regretted not being able to fulfill the vengeance of his ancestors, who had lost everything to that thrice-damned madhouse of clams, for the majority of his life.

He regretted entrusting said vengeance to their supposed allies, the Formica, for fear that he would lose all his men.

But now he would fix that.

He'd heard quite a bit about the Vongola's Inheritance Ceremony. After all, it had been one of the most scandalous events in the entire history of the Mafia. There was bound to be gossip. And said gossip always contained a grain or two of truth, especially if it tended to repeat itself.

One particular piece was enough of a push for him to set a new plan into motion.

“ _And I heard there was a girl in his group who was supposedly an imported civilian. Oh, I don't know. Maybe his mistress? A lover? Who cares about age these days. Yes, she was Asian. Probably Japanese. Oh, you didn't know? The new Decimo is Japanese. I know, right? Seems they don't care about mixing up the bloodline anymore. Then again, there was always this rumour that Primo fled to the east. Maybe he's some kind of long lost heir? Hah, I know. Too crazy. And there was...”_

It had not been hard to find the girl. Those accursed clams sure were sitting on their laurels, having such lax security as to allow a rather harmless member of their Famiglia to wander off on their own. Then again, you couldn't keep an eye on everyone all the time. They had let her go out alone and he had caught their blunder right on time.

Smirking, he looked over to a corner, where a sole girl , unconscious, tied and gagged, lied on the cold, hard floor. Oh yes, he'd caught their blunder alright. Now all he had to do was wait for-

“Hey! You! Don't just come in here like tha- urg!”

He looked over to the door of his entry hall just in time to see in swing open, letting a powerful gust of wind in. Right in the middle of the doorway stood a lone, small figure, his eyes hidden beneath his unruly bangs.

“Ala Bianca.” were the only words spoken, but behind them were a myriad of barely suppressed emotions.

“So you know who we are, do you?” he sneered.

Tsuna gritted his teeth but let himself play along, “I got a tip from a friend of yours.”

“Oh? You mean that pathetic Formica you wiped out some months ago. A commendable job, by the way.”

His fury was about to explode. “They were your  _ allies. _ ”

The man snorted, “They were  _ pawns _ , nothing more.”

“For what cause?!”

He smiled maliciously, “Revenge. Cold, sweet revenge for my ancestors. But I'll spare you the details. Someone like you couldn't comprehend this anyway. Just know that you need to die.”

The brunet just listened in both disbelief and outrage. “And for  _ that  _ you had to drag  _ her _ into this?” he almost yelled, pointing at the prone girl lying in the corner.

“Ah, but Vongola. You forget I needed a bait. Otherwise you wouldn't have come here on our terms. Am I right?”

The boy nearly snarled, but kept himself in check, “She has  _ nothing _ to do with this!”

“Oh no, on the contrary. She has everything to do with this. After all, she got you here, didn't she?” God, this was so much _fun_. Why hadn't he done this in the first place?

“You... _teme_...”

“Now now, don't go cursing me in a different language, Vongola. It's quite unbecoming of a Don.”

This man. He dared- he dared-

**Kill him.**

What?

**Kill him.**

N-no, wait-

**You have to.**

He didn't-

**They already got Kyouko.**

B- but she-

**Now they have Haru.**

He...

**They will hurt her.**

No...

**They will KILL her.**

Not again...

**And it will be your fault.**

Never again.

**Do you want that to happen again?**

**NO.**

And he felt it. All the rage, the hatred, the ravenous hunger for blood. It all came out, flowing agonizingly through his veins like liquid fire and fuelling the flames on his forehead and his fists.

With a battle cry, he let loose of his emotions, let them overcome him, let them seep through, let them  _ free _ and he felt a surge of power, of some power he had never felt before.

It felt new.

It felt wild.

It felt dark.

It felt cold.

It felt  ** good ** .

And it made him absolutely  _ unstoppable. _

This man, no, this  ** monster ** thought he didn't know what it was like to hate from the bottom of his heart? What it felt like to thirst for vengeance?

Well, then,  ** think again ** .

In one fell swoop, in less than a second, every other man standing in the room was incapacitated. In some cases also dismembered. He didn't know how he had done it – he was fast, but never that fast – but he didn't care.

These people were out to hurt them.

**His precious people.**

And he  ** could not allow that ** .

A neck was crushed under his elbow. Another one snapped with a kick. A heart pierced with his hand. A head smashed on the wall.

They would never hurt them again.  ** Ever. **

Seemingly from far away, he heard a (female?) voice, but he didn't pay it any mind. “I've found them! They're here! Hurry! He's in trouble!”

No. Right now, all his attention was on a certain Mafia Boss cowering in his pitiful seat of power.

That man was responsible. It was all  ** his ** fault.

And he'd  ** pay ** . Oh,  ** he'd pay ** .

The man screamed. Even as he was assaulted by unimaginable pain, he screamed. Even as the last shine of life left his eyes, he screamed.

And then, it was deathly silent.

“B- Boss.”

“Tsu- Tsuna-sa- san...”

He turned to look at the voices that had broken the silence.

Haru was awake. That was great. And Chrome... what was she doing here? She wasn't supposed to be here... she wasn't supposed... to...

_Chrome?_

Why did she look so scared?

“Boss...”

What was it? What was wrong?

“Y-your... your flames...”

His flames? He looked down. His eyes widened, horror written all over his face.

No. That was impossible. It couldn't be! It was- it was- no, no, no-

“B- Boss, you... you're a Sky...”

He was... he... was?

“But... your flames...”

On his right hand, his flames, orange Sky flames, were a reassuring presence.

He looked at the flames dancing and flickering around his left hand.

Why...?

“W- why are they...”

_ Why were they  _ ** black ** _ ? _


	7. Self-destruction

He took in a deep breath, then let it out.

Although the enormous room they were in was deep underground, the air in here was surprisingly non-stale. It said a lot about the ventilation system.

Slowly, almost as if to stall, the brunet opened his eyes and found himself staring into a pair of obsidian orbs.

“Are you ready?” asked the not-so-small-anymore infant gripping the green handgun securely in his hand.

The boy just stood there, staring, sorting out his thoughts, before he nodded, albeit still slightly reluctant. The smaller of the two nodded back in confirmation and the only sound that could be heard was the clicking of a gun before he pointed it directly at the boy's forehead.

“Here we go.” he said, and his words had a sense of finality in them that they had not previously possessed. The brunet almost gulped, but years of conditioning kept him from showing that particular sign of weakness.

“Here we go.” he repeated in agreement.

The sound of a gunshot rang through the training room.

For a split second, his eyes glazed over, losing their shine, before they started glowing an unusual shade of orange. A small flame appeared on his forehead even as his expression schooled itself into one of calculating, calm blankness.

Up until now, everything was going well. There were no aberrations or abnormalities.

He looked down at his hands, were a pair of battle gloves enveloped his hands, one of which sported an intricately designed, two-fingered ring connected by a chain. After just a moment's hesitation, he concentrated on them and his inner flames obeyed the command.

His fists ignited in a warm, familiar shade of Sky.

For a moment, he let relief wash through him, lifting a heavy weight off his shoulders.

But through all the warmth, a wisp of cold bled through, and hint of darkness appeared on the core of his flames and suddenly they weren't Sky orange but Night black and they were consuming his whole hand, licking away at his gloves and all the mental wards he had put up were being stripped away like a hurricane was passing by-

Choking on air and fear, he extinguished the flames, all of them. He couldn't do this. He wasn't ready. The Night would consume him if he allowed it to, he  _ knew _ that.

“Dame-Tsuna!” came the sharp voice of Reborn, snapping him out of the downward spiral that were his thoughts. “Ignite them again. We need to see if something can be done.”

Ignite them again? Was he crazy?

No, no, he couldn't do that. He  _ couldn't _ .

Shaking his head in utter refusal, he scrambled to find an excuse, any excuse to get out of here, “I-I don't have enough time for this anyway, Reborn. I should... I should get back to work. Yeah, I'll do that. All those documents are probably piling up on my desk. Better get the work done soon. I'll see you at dinner, Reborn. You probably also have stuff to do.” And with that he left the room, the door closing behind him automatically.

Left behind, the hitman could only grit his teeth in frustration.

The Night flames, the representation of one's hatred and vindictiveness, had awakened within Tsuna. That much he could see in the brief moment they'd been ignited. Was he the cause? Had his support of the boy's revenge only made matters worse? Had he doomed his pupil to a lifetime of fear of his own power?

Silent like a wraith, eyes shadowed by his fedora, he also exited the hall, leaving it to veil itself in darkness.

* * *

 

“ _Ah, Tsu-kun! You're back! How was your trip?” said the loving voice of his mother._

_He smiled at her, but it didn't reach his eyes, “Hey mom. Why... why don't we go sit down? There's a lot... we need to talk about.”_

_Her demeanour shifted slightly then, her eyes more focused and her jaw set firmly in seriousness. “Of course, Tsu-kun. Let's go to the living room. I still have some tea I could warm up.”_

_He frowned at the thought that he was almost being treated as a visitor, “Mom, you don't need-”_

“ _I insist, dear. Just let me fix up some cups of tea and I'll be right there with you.” she interrupted him, and her eyes suddenly held a shadow of insecurity. He paused at that. Perhaps she wanted to use whatever time she had to prepare herself mentally, since she clearly sensed this would be far more than just some senseless chit-chat._

_Reluctantly, he retreated to the living room and waited. A few minutes later she came in, two steaming cups in hand. Handing him one, she took a seat in front of him and placed her cup on her lap, looking at her son expectantly and far more soberly than he had ever seen her._

_He sighed, and the weight in his heart suddenly became glaringly obvious. Swallowing down his nervousness with a sip of tea, he cleared his throat._

“ _Mom,what I wanted to talk about... I mean, I... dad and I...” he sighed, aggravated at his sudden inability to speak, deciding to go for the most important fact first, “Dad and I... we... we've been lying to you.”_

_There, he'd said it. He sneaked a glance at the woman, and his eyes widened slightly in disbelief._

_She was smiling at him, seemingly sad, accepting and proud at the same time._

“ _I know.”_

_And suddenly he felt the guilt he'd been hiding away for years push its way to the forefront of his mind with almost no resistance. How many times had she seen him come home wounded and was flooded with panic and worry? How many times had she plastered a naïve smile on her face and oblivious words on her lips just to make him feel better, to give him a sense of normalcy between the unparalleled chaos that had become of his life? How many times had she stayed up at night to pray for the safe return of the only constant in her life?_

_He took a shuddering breath, “Do you... also know... do you know what we've been doing?”_

_This time, her smile turned resigned, melancholic, “No, I just know you get yourselves into a lot of trouble.”_

_He nodded, “Mom, how much do you know about the Mafia.”_

_ She blinked at that, “Mafia? You mean these organized crime institutions? Like the Yakuza, only in the west.” _

_He nodded again, “Yes. You see, dad... he's the head of a particular department of one of the biggest Famiglie in Italy.”_

_Her brows creased in worry, “And you?”_

_It felt like someone had stuck a rock in his throat and for a moment, he couldn't speak. “Me... I-I...I'm the heir of that Famiglia.”_

_Widened chocolate eyes stared at him as if seeing him for the first time and Tsuna absolutely hated it. “So you... Iemitsu and Tsu-kun... you're...” as she choked up, the last word came out in naught but a whisper, “...criminals?”_

“ _No!” he denied before his mind could even catch up with his mouth, “No, I... I promised someone, two people really, that I'd change the Vongola for the best.” he looked her directly in the eye, “I want to return it to its roots, a vigilante group meant to protect innocents.”_

_She sat there silently, contemplating, and for a moment, he feared that she would turn her back on him, throw him out, reject him. But she didn't. She just looked at him, processing the information he had given her._

_Suddenly, her face broke into a bright grin and her eyes gained an excited glint. If that wasn't enough to put him off, her next words definitely were, “Oh, that's amazing. My Tsu-kun's like the hero of the Mafia!”_

_She giggled as he sputtered. Hero of the Mafia? Dang it, mom! This wasn't some kind of shounen manga!_

_But still... still, he couldn't quell the sudden warmth in his chest nor could he stop the small, embarrassed smile from surfacing on his face._

_Then, she stood up and took him in her arms, ignoring his half-hearted protests, “I'm proud of you, Tsu-kun.” she said, and her voice had a soft, loving quality that projected just how many emotions she was feeling, “No matter what you do or where you go, I'll always support you.”_

_As if he'd been struck, his legs almost gave in from under him and he returned her embrace to support himself. In that moment, he didn't feel like burdened, sixteen year old Tsuna, he felt like small, vulnerable Tsu-kun._

_As his face was buried in her shoulder, his words came out muffled, but she understood them all the same, and accepted them with a smile._

“ _Thank you, mom.”_

* * *

 

As much as he'd been willing it to for the past two hours, the ceiling of his bed simply didn't seem inclined to becoming any more interesting, Sighing, he finally sat up, the rustle of the silky covers easily reaching his ears in the stillness of the night.

Of all the times it could have, that memory chose now to haunt him, when he knew she would be anything but proud.

He chuckled bitterly as he walked out to to balcony overlooking the rose garden. Feeling a small, cold pressure on his chest, he dug his hand into his shirt and pulled out the small glass container he'd taken to constantly carry around.

It was his reminder that he'd failed once, that he couldn't fail again.

But hadn't he almost lost Haru just a few hours ago? Hadn't he almost failed again?

This time, the self deprecating smile was accompanied by a trail of salty tears. “I'm sorry, mom... but Reborn was right. I should stop trying to be a hero.” And as he glanced at the waning moon, he could clearly feel the giant black hole in his heart. “Because there are not heroes in this world of darkness.”

“There's only villains.”

* * *

 

Physical labour, Tsuna found out, was wonderfully distracting, as it required all of his focus if he wanted to remain unscathed.

Duck to the left. Right hook. Kick to the sternum. Follow-up kick to the head. Use momentum to catch him off balance. Use flames for extra speed when delivering a-

NO.

No flames. He didn't need fames right now. This was a simple spar, no need for flames.

Unfortunately, the sudden derailing of his train of thought caused him to pause momentarily, giving his opponent more than big enough a window to punch him in the face. Hard.

He was sent sprawling across the room until his back impacted with the cold, hard wall.

“Is something the matter, Juudaime-sama? You usually never space out during a spar.” said a deep, authoritative voice in distinct japanese.

Tsuna groaned as he stood up, feeling in back crack in protest. He turned to look at the elder, grey haired man. “No, I'm okay. And please call me Tsuna or at least Tsunayoshi, Hideki-san. We've been doing this for so long that formalities are superfluous.”

The man smiled in a way that vaguely reminded him of grandpa, “As you wish, Tsunayoshi-sama.”

Tsuna just rolled his eyes as he stood up. He was perfectly aware that the man would be calling Juudaime-sama again by the next day. It was somewhat unnerving, but having had Gokudera-kun at his side for three years helped.

Hideki Noboru was actually the head butler of the Vongola mansion, who occasionally stepped in as a martial arts instructor when needed, which had been the case ever since the tenth generation had moved in. As a former member of the Japanese secret service who had gotten too tangled up in the Mafia as a spy and had had the fortune of meeting Nono when things had gotten heated, he was quite proficient in a few types of martial arts, as well as some other skills that he chose not to elaborate on.

He owed Vongola his life and chose to pay it off with his services. Thus, Tsuna had taken up sparring sessions with the man.

“Again.”

The man's brow creased with worry, “Are you sure Tsunayoshi-sama? You look a little worse for wear.”

“I'm okay.” he repeated and immediately moved into an offensive kata, taking Hideki off guard. The man blocked the surprisingly fierce punch out of instinct, then shifted his body appropriately for a counter attack.

Once again, their deadly dance began, taking all of their concentration. For Tsuna there was just him and his opponent, nothing else. He launched attack after attack relentlessly, constantly switching between offence and defence. He didn't know for how long they'd been at it, but the adrenaline coursing through his veins stopped him from feeling the aching of his limbs so he didn't care.

Just as he ducked under a high jab and entered the man's guard at impossible speeds, the world suddenly went black and a sharp pain made itself known in his chest, pulsing in an agonizing rhythm. For a moment, a split second, Tsuna only knew agony, horrible pain, and a darkness that somehow seemed blood red, freezing his insides and sharpening the pain.

Then, as quickly as it had appeared, it was gone and he found himself disoriented yet scrambling to get away from  _ something _ quickly approaching him due to his Hyper Intuition. He didn't make it in time, though, and a knee connected solidly with his stomach, making bile rise up his throat.

He fell to the ground, gagging and holding his stomach in pain. A grunt escaped him as he managed to suppress the urge to vomit.

“Tsunayoshi-sama, I think I will cut this spar short. You are clearly feeling unwell.” said the butler, concern lacing his words.

No. He couldn't do that, he couldn't stop now. He needed a distraction. He needed- he needed-

“N-no... w-wait...”

“No, you are in no condition to be sparring. I'll bring you to your chambers so you can get some rest.” his firm voice left no room for arguments and Tsuna found himself being half dragged to his room since his legs suddenly felt like jelly. Suffering jelly.

It seemed he'd need to find something else. Training himself to the bone didn't last long enough.

* * *

 

Walking at a brisk pace through the expensively decorated halls of the mansion that had not long ago become his home, Hayato tried to calm himself by mentally playing a piece that his mother had taught him.

It wasn't working.

Some minutes ago, he'd run into the head butler. Surprised, as the man usually was in one of the training rooms with Juudaime at this time of the day, he'd asked if something was wrong. In response, the man had told him that his Boss –  _ friend –  _ wasn't feeling well and that he'd dropped him off at his room so he could rest.

How could he calm down knowing that?

Finally reaching the door of the Head of the Famiglia's chambers, he knocked on it with no small amount of trepidation.

There was no answer.

Hayato frowned and knocked again. Still no answer. Now inwardly panicking, he called out. No reply came from the other side.

He did the only thing he could think of in this situation: he kicked the door open. Only, the door kicked his foot back. In his panic he'd forgotten that these doors were made of a very hard and heavy wood and the lock of reinforced steel coated in gold.

He grabbed his foot and cursed in every language he knew, which was an impressive number, as he finally remembered the spare key he'd been given as the Boss' right hand man to enter the room in case of an emergency.

Well, this was more than enough of an emergency in his book. Quickly fishing out the key which dangled from a thin but strong chain hidden underneath his shirt, he inserted it into the keyhole, turning it hastily.

The door swung open, giving him a full view of the admittedly huge room. It was empty.

Yet again, panic gripped his heart as he looked around, desperately searching for a hint,  _ any _ hint, of the brunette’s presence.

“Juudaime! Juudaime, are you here?” he called in the vague hope that he'd get a response.

And a response he got, directly from the bathroom door, “G-gokudera-kun? What are you doing here?”

So elated he was to have found his Boss that he never noticed the panicked, almost hysterical note in his voice. “Ah, I was looking for you, Juudaime. I was told you weren't feeling well so I wanted to check on you.” He said as he walked towards the bathroom door, one arm raised to open it.

“W-wait, Gokudera-kun. Don- don't come in-” but it was too late as the silver haired teen pushed the door open with a relieved smile on his face – and stopped in his tracks.

Red.

Blood.

Juudaime was standing in front of the sink, with one hand raised as if to cover his mouth.

There was blood on the sink.

And sprayed all across his palm.

Specks of the same red substance freckled his lips and dribbled down his chin.

“Gokudera-kun, I'm alright. This isn't wh-” but he was interrupted by a violent coughing fit and Hayato watched in horror as more of that precious blood escaped his now unnaturally pale lips.

Making his decision half subconsciously, he gripped the other teen's wrist with more force than he would have used had he been more lucid and dragged him out of the bathroom and the bedroom.

“Wait, Goku-” he winced as he heard another coughing fit behind him, but his steps didn't falter, “What- Where?”

“We're going to the hospital wing.”

At that, he started offering resistance, “No, wait. I told you I'm fine-”

The Storm then rounded on him, looking every bit his role with that scowl on his face and the determined glint in his eyes. “You were coughing up  _ blood _ , Juudaime. That is definitively NOT  _ fine _ . We're going to the hospital wing.” he put every ounce of authority he possessed in his voice and the brunet, unused to such a tone directed at him, unconsciously relented.

Finally finding the door to that particularly well used section of the mansion, he forcefully opened it.

“I need a doctor and I need him now!”

* * *

 

By the time the different doctors and scientists of Vongola HQ had started discussing the results of the various test he'd been put through, every other Guardian (even the more reclusive ones) and his tutor had somehow been informed and had found their way to his bedside.

That is, with the exception of Gokudera-kun, who was sitting in the corner of the room glaring darkly at the air before him.

“Are you really okay, Tsuna?” asked his Rain, and Tsuna chose to ignore the Storm's moods in favour of smiling at him reassuringly.

“Of course, Yamamoto. It was just an attack. I'm sure I'll be good as new by tomorrow.”

Yamamoto didn't look entirely convinced, but at least he wasn't freaking out anymore.

“I'm sorry to inform you, Decimo, but that won't be the case.” Almost as one, everyone in the room turned to look at the doorway, where a middle aged and clearly distressed man stood holding a stack of paper in one hand and running the other through his hair.

“What d-do you mean?” asked Chrome, her voice wavering with insecurity.

The man sighed, “Please hear me out to the end.” When he was sure he'd gotten everyone's attention, he continued. “It was previously believed that the Night flame, being the only Sky type flame that could be used by anyone, was also compatible with every other flame. It's hard to say due to lack of previously recorded cases, but it seems that this isn't the case. Since Sky flames are so rare and Night flames even more so, there was no way to test this until now. Apparently, from what the tests say, the harmony attribute of the Sky clashes quite violently with the bitterness and hatred of the Night.”

“But what does that mean for him?” asked Mukuro, apparently nonchalant, but the hard edge in his tone gave him away.

The doctor glared at him momentarily before sighing and clearing his throat, “I was getting there. Since the two flames clash so much, they end up... battling, in a sense, for dominance in the user's body, which can cause a lot of damage to it. From here on out there are two possibilities: either the Night overpowers the Sky through its higher energy output, completely extinguishing it and starting a chain reaction of both mental and physical transformations, or...”

“Or...?” Onii-san urged him on nervously.

“Or...” he sighed tiredly yet again, “if the own flames are way above average, the two end up in a stalemate and keep fighting for dominance until... until the user's body collapses and self-destructs.”

For a moment, there was complete silence.

Then, “...what?” came the whisper of a dazed Tsuna, “Wha... I don't...”

Reborn growled, “Dame-Tsuna, don't you get it?” at his student's uncomprehending, distant look he bit out harshly and in mild hysteria, “You could turn into a Vindice but your flames are too strong for that, so that only leaves the other option.”

And as Reborn struggled to get the last words out, realization struck him like a hammer to the head.

“You're dying.”


	8. Untainted

The only sound that filled the magnificent office of the Vongola Don was the scratching of pen on paper and the occasional shifting of documents on his desk. Although, sometimes a muffled, but nevertheless violent cough would break down the precariously built silence in the room and its only occupant would have to rebuild it again through seeming eternities of the mind-numbing fulfilment of his task.

Feeling another fit coming, the sickly teenage boy lunged for the red, stained handkerchief on his desk, beside a stack of paper, and covered his mouth with it, successfully hindering any blood from flying any farther than his lips.

It had been a week since his diagnostic, but still Tsuna refused to stop working and hand the workload to someone else. He had a responsibility to keep, even if he was, well, fatally ill in a way.

Just as he was about to pick up his pen for the nth time that afternoon, the door swung open, a small breeze entering the office and almost displacing some of the documents on his desk. Fortunately, they stayed still.

The young Don lifted his tired, dull brown gaze to meet another, this one steely grey and narrowed.

“Can I help you, Hibari-san?” he asked, half hoping that the older teen would just turn around and leave without saying a word as he was so prone to. Sadly, it seemed that fate hadn't been on his side for more than a week and was planning to stay that way.

Hibari's eyes narrowed further and a low, threatening growl escaped his throat. Unexpectedly, and successfully stopping any one sentence from forming in his mouth, Tsuna just shoved a stack of documents and a manila folder in front of his face. Once the black haired fighter practically ripped the files out of his hands in ire, he continued with his paperwork, not lifting his gaze again.

“Omnivore-”

“I need those signed.” he said monotonously, still not looking up.

The other stared at him in mild disbelief and outrage, “What.”

“Those are the blueprints for the Foundation base in Namimori. They need your approval and your signature before anything can truly begin. Mine is already on it. Once you're done, just give them to the secretary. She'll know what to do.” was his reply.

There was a moment of shocked, tense silence in which Hibari briefly considered ripping the paper to shreds, throwing them at the floor and stomping on them until they were no longer recognizable as paper, all in a fit of rage. Instead, he chose to release ungodly amounts of killing intent.

Tsuna didn't heed his Guardian's dark aura and simply kept signing the documents.

Finally, after taking a moment to rein in his bloodlust and calm himself down, he spoke again, “Omnivore...”

But yet again, he was interrupted, “If you could, please have it done by tomorrow. The building company gave us a deadline-”

“I don't care, Tsunayoshi!” he finally burst out, “You shouldn't be here doing all this. You should be lying in bed, resting!” by now he was breathing heavily, but still his accusing glare did not relent.

The younger of the two just sat there, stunned into silence until he found his voice again, though only as a whisper. “I can't- I can't just leave-” a coughing fit he was unprepared for interrupted him and he scrambled for his handkerchief, wiping the red substance off of his hand once it was over.

His Cloud just gritted his teeth in frustration and let out another growl before he turned on his heel and started walking towards the door, crumpled files in hand. At the doorway, though, he stopped, holding on to the polished wood with a white-knuckled grip.

“Hibari-san...?” Tsuna asked with some nervousness.

“Kyouya.” was his reply.

“Huh?”

The previously enraged Guardian now looked more resigned than anything as he turned his head slightly to look him, “Call me Kyouya.” he said and then muttered under his breath, “For as long as you still can.” But the words were still heard in the quietness of the office.

Once again shocked into silence, Tsuna almost missed his chance as his Cloud walked out the door. “Hiba- K-kyouya-san!”

The former prefect stopped but said nothing, simply acknowledging the call. Tsuna looked down, feeling tears prickling at the corners of his eyes and said in a low, almost undetectable whisper, “Thanks.”

Kyouya stayed still for a moment, then nodded near imperceptibly and left the room.

Blinking away the tears, he then turned a contemplative look at a particular file sitting alone on a corner of his desk. No, he wouldn't give her that now. Later perhaps, they would find it when he- when he-

But not now.

* * *

 

Two people sat in the cozy living room illuminated solely by the cheery fire crackling away in the borderline monolithic fireplace. Sitting across each other with only a coffee table between them, they let the silence stretch out to an unbearable length. After what seemed like an eternity and a half for both of them, the silence was finally broken.

“B-boss, are you feeling alright? Are the medications working properly?” asked the girl.

The boy offered her a smile, but the effect was slightly dampened by his sickly complexion and the outright exhaustion reflected in his eyes. “I'm fine Chrome. You don't have to worry about me.”

She frowned, concern lining her face, and in his tired, not quite there state of mind, he found the expression somehow endearing.

“You don't look fine. The doctors said you aren't fine. That you're- you're- I have a right to be worried, Boss.”

It was his turn to frown, a certain memory choosing that moment to invade his conscious mind, and he couldn't help but mutter something before he realized what he was saying, “Sure didn't look like that to me back then...”

Unfortunately for him, as an illusionist she had very sharp senses. Her brow creased further. “What do you mean?”

Caught off guard, he tried to do damage control, “No, I didn't- what I meant-”

“What did you mean?” she repeated, this time with conviction, and he could only sigh.

“At the Ala B-bianca base,” he almost choked on the name, “When you found me... the way you were looking at me... as if I could attack you at any given moment...”

“No!” she denied vehemently, “That's not what it was! Not at all!”

He stared at her for a second, “Then what?”

She gulped and tried to collect her thoughts, “Boss, I... when I saw those flames, the _Night_ flames... I wasn't afraid of you.” she declared resolutely.

Enraptured by her words, he silently urged her on.

“When I saw those black flames, I was worried, afraid _for_ you. I remember Bermuda. Remember how torn and hurt and bitter he was. I could only imagine what you were feeling, what you were going through to have summoned those flames. I-I felt horrified, helpless, because... because you looked so... so _lonely_ in that moment,” She looked him in the eye, “You still do.”

He quickly averted his eyes, guilt and shame gnawing at his heart, and his voice was barely above a whisper, “I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have-”

“It's okay. I probably looked haunted for you to have thought that. Ken always says I look like that if I don't smile.” and she offered him a small, somewhat sheepish smile.

“I'm still sorry.”

“Don't apologize, Boss. Everyone makes mistakes.”

He looked at her.

Yeah, he just made a lot more than he should.

Then, the smile cracked and a small tear slid down her cheek, which she hurriedly wiped away. His eyes widened, then softened, “Chrome...”

“S-sorry, Boss. I just- It's just...” her voice wavered and she looked down at her lap, “...seeing you here like this, so weakened... I just can't help but think of the future... you'll be- you- you'll be gone and...” her frame started trembling and she released a soft sob, “...please... don't go...”

It felt like someone had stabbed a pole through his heart and _twisted_ , seeing her like this, and he could only reach across the table and gingerly embrace her, whispering words of consolation that he couldn't bring himself to believe. All the while he wondered if his other Guardians – his friends – were going through something similar. The thought saddened him.

After a while, he noticed that the sobs had subsided and her breathing was back to a calm, soft rhythm. She had cried herself to sleep.

Just as he was about to lift her up to take her to her room, a new figure appeared before him.

“I'll take her off your arms.” he said solemnly.

“Mukuro... thanks.” he nodded tiredly.

Once he had lifted her into his arms and shifted her into a more comfortable position, he made to walk away, but stayed instead, staring directly into the eyes of his Sky.

“... the first time we met, I tried to posses you, then to kill you. You shipped me off to Vendicare. I never really wanted anything to do with this world, but ended up following her here anyway...”

Tsuna waited, amber staring into ruby and sapphire.

“I don't know you enough to be able to mourn you.” he stated and his gaze intensified, “Then why...” after a moment longer of staring, he averted his gaze and chuckled bitterly, “You are so full of contradictions, Tsunayoshi.”

And with that he disappeared, leaving Tsuna alone with the crackling fire.

* * *

 

Deep, very deep inside the garden labyrinth stood a small, old gazebo that had been unused for decades. That is, until one cloudy afternoon, a certain individual lost his way and found the unused, unkempt gazebo by pure chance. Having seen the relative solitude of the place and the stillness of its surroundings, that person turned it into a small, simple memorial: a photo of a grinning, auburn haired girl and a vase of sunflowers beside it.

Ever since then, both Ryohei and Tsuna had taken it upon themselves to change the flowers at least weekly. But it wasn't Ryohei who he found this time after wandering through the labyrinth with a fresh batch of sunflowers in his hands, nor was the place empty.

There, kneeling in front of the well kept photo, was Haru.

As quietly as he could so as not to disturb her, he walked up to her and lowered himself beside her, reaching out towards the vase. Once he'd exchanged one batch of flowers of the other, he gently placed the vase back into its spot beside the photograph. The pair then sat in silence for a while.

“You told me about the flames once.” she suddenly said, still looking forward, “Reborn-kun told me about those black flames.” then, her head lowered with her voice, “Since when... since when have you been harbouring those feelings? Is it... because of Kyouko?”

He looked at her for a moment before turning back to the photo. “Yes.” Another coughing fit then racked his body and he wiped the blood from his hand with the handkerchief he'd started carrying around constantly.

Her eyes trailed his hand, then the stained piece of cloth and finally came to rest at the flowers. She clenched her fists, “She would have never wanted this. She would have never wanted to see you like this.”

“She was too kind.” he agreed.

“So were you.”

“I wasn-”

“You were! You were so kind. Even after that night, you were still so kind... you always used to forgive everyone, always looking for a way to solve things without bloodshed.” And she knew. She'd been told of all the adventures and misfortunes Tsuna and his Guardians had gone through. “But in the end, you were always forced to fight.” she took a steadying breath, “Why... can't you let go this time?”

A small frown creased his brow, “...the wounds run too deep, Haru. I can't just forgive and forget.”

“You...”

“I loved her.” he started again, “I never got to tell her that. I couldn't protect her...”

The girl paused for a moment before her gaze softened, “And I loved you. But the heart changes constantly, Tsuna-san.” she said gently, “So, even when facing death... why can't you just let those horrible feelings go?”

His face contorted slightly, as if in pain, “...I... couldn't save her. Couldn't save one person... the one I loved.” he lifted his hand and stared at it, “They're terrifying – dark and cold. But... these feelings, these flames, they hold power.”

“They're _killing_ you!” she cried, horrified.

His gaze darkened, “Then maybe I simply deserve to die.”

_SLAP._

Tsuna suddenly found himself looking to the side, one hand raised to gingerly touch his red, stinging cheek. Turning his head to look back in front him, he saw Haru there, right arm still raised from the blow while tears streamed down her anguished face.

“Have you any idea...” she started with a trembling voice, “...what you just said?”

He could just stare numbly at her, mind utterly blank.

Her arm fell to her side and she suppressed a sob, “How could you say something like that! What about those you'd be leaving behind? Don't you care about  _us_ ? What do you think we would do without you?!”

The brunet flinched, “No, I-”

“She's right, you know.”

He swivelled around. There, standing right behind him (and how had not sensed them before?) stood the people he had gotten to know and care for like family.

“Everyone...”

But Haru's voice brought his attention back to her, “Why is it so hard to forgive now, when it used to come to you like breathing before?”

“Because...” Because... what? What was the reason? Why couldn't he let go? Was his heart really that broken?

No. That wasn't true.

It wasn't like him. His nature was accepting, all-encompassing. He was a Sky.

The truth was, from the moment he had spared the Formica, from the moment he had almost completely forgotten about his revenge, about Ala Bianca, he had already forgiven them.

The thirst for vengeance he had tried to satiate with the Ala Bianca had only left him more hollow.

He couldn't blame anybody. He didn't know who to push it unto.

And the only one he couldn't forgive – was himself.

All that hatred and bitterness towards the world because of her death, his failure, it had never had a way out. And when the Night flames had appeared, he had almost taken the torture they came with as a form of atonement.

His thoughts, however, were interrupted by a soft voice, “You were with her that night. Knowing her, I can already imagine them. But tell me, Tsuna-san,” their gazes locked, “what were her last words?”

He choked up. Her last words? “To...”

“ _I don't... blame you... I- I actually wan... wanted to thank you... for sharing so... so much with me. So don't... don't let me stop you... your life... live it with... without regrets.”_

His eyes widened a fraction, “To live... without regrets...”

And the almost tragic smile he got in return made him want to cry.

He'd had it wrong.

He'd had it all wrong.

How could he simply forget something so important?

How could he be so _stupid_?

Kyouko-chan... she...

“See? She didn't want any of this. She didn't want to be avenged. She wanted you to _live_ , not to blame anyone... or yourself.”

_Live without regrets._

He looked around once again, taking in each and every face in the group, all of different sizes and ages, all with dark bags under their glistening eyes. It wasn't only his Guardians present. Even Fuuta and I-pin stood to one side and Bianchi was standing beside her brother while Reborn perched on her shoulder. Haru had unconsciously moved towards the group too.

This wasn't just any group of people.

This was his  _family_ .

The family he'd been about to leave because he couldn't simply let go of some petty emotions born from a fate long past.

No, he was not going to die a sinner, nor would he die without fulfilling the oaths he had made. And no self-righteous sense of justice that had devolved into depravity and darkness would stop him.

He would live for his family, even if he had to challenge the devil himself for his soul to do it.

Through his  teary gaze, he saw their expressions suddenly change to astonishment and then happiness, as a single tiny, flickering Sky flame appeared on his forehead like a sign of his resolution.

Completely untainted.

And, even though he could  _feel_ the minuscule, almost  nonexistent spark of black he knew would stay with him forever, he shared their tears of joy as most of them practically threw themselves at him, catching him in a tangle of limbs and incomparable warmth.

Hours later, in the hospital wing, an unconscious Tsuna was diagnosed with enormous, but curable damage to many internal organs, mostly his lungs, near-fatal exhaustion – and completely stable flames.

In his dreams, he could have sworn he had heard a familiar, cheery voice say something about fire eventually going out without fuel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus we have reached the end of the first arc. Look forward to the rest of the story!


	9. Colours of the Sky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of filler-ish, but definitely needed. An intermission of sorts.

The scratching of pen on paper was the sole predominant sound in the Vongola Don's office, accompanied by the occasional sigh from said painkiller-pumped Don, in the hopes that his slight, hangover induced headache would go away. He mentally cursed the _certain someone_ (coughmukurocough) who had oh so cleverly decided to spike the drinks of his small, private get-well party last night.

Just as he started on a new document, the door opened, a familiar girl stepping in. “Timoteo-san, here are the documents you reques- Hahi? Tsuna-san? What are you doing here? You should be resting!”

He had the grace to look sheepish, “Haru? Ah, sorry, I just really have to take care of this, so-”

“I don't want to hear it. You just escaped what could be classified as a lethal disease. You shouldn't strain yourself like this!”

“But you see, this really is important and I'd rather get it done quickly.”

She glared at him, disgruntled, “What could be so important that you would risk your health to get it done asap?”

At that exact moment, their ears caught an indistinct sound that seemed to be getting louder by the second. Only after a moment of concentration did she recognize it as a yell.

“Tuuuuuuuuuuunaaaaaaaaa fiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiish!”

Tsuna sighed and massaged his temples before looking back at her, “That.” was his answer.

Not a second later, a tall, blond man trampled into his office, stupid grin and all. “Tuna fish! You summoned me? Could it be you're finally ready to receive my fatherly love?”

“When pigs start flying.” he deadpanned.

The man seemingly deflated, but then pulled himself together. “Oh, is it a mission then? Do you need the CEDEF for something? Or do you need advice from your father?”

“It's about this.” he unceremoniously shoved a stack of papers into the man's face. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately.

The blonde grabbed the documents before they asphyxiated him and stared for a while. Then he looked back up to meet his son's eyes, all cheer gone from his demeanour. “What is this?” he asked faintly.

“Your retirement documents.” The brunet answered without missing a beat.

“...”

“...”

“What.”

“You heard me.”

“You're firing me?”

“I'm dismissing you. Your services are no longer required, Young Lion of the Vongola.” For the first time in what felt like ages, his voice was cold and steely, allowing no arguments. Still, the other persisted.

“You- you can't do that!”

“Oh, but I can. And I will, as you have seen.”

He looked enraged now. “The Famiglia needs me!”

The temperature in the room suddenly dropped as a glowing, orange glare that was somehow both blazing like a raging fire and icy like a cold, hard crystal was directed at him. His back unconsciously straightened as the most primal part of his being recognized the boy, no, man before as a predator and himself as prey.

A heavy, authoritative voice cut through the tense silence in the room like a blade and with a start, Iemitsu realized it was his son's.

“No. Your _family_ needs you.” The glare intensified for a moment before the tension suddenly dropped, as if it had never been there in the first place. “Spend some time with your wife, will you?”

The elder of the two stared at him completely gobsmacked before lowering his head in shame. “I guess the Young Lion isn't so young anymore.” he chuckled bitterly. “But who will lead CEDEF then? I do have an heir, but he's not ready yet-”

“Lal Mirch will be the temporary head of CEDEF until Basil has enough experience and is considered ready. It won't be very long since his training with you is already finished.”

Surprise didn't even begin to describe his current expression. “And they already know of this?”

“Lal does.”

“And she's _okay with this_?”

Tsuna allowed himself a small smirk, “I can be very convincing at times.”

Iemitsu stared for a little longer before sighing. “So... this is it for me?”

A snort, “Don't speak as if you're about to die. It's just retirement.”

“But Tuna fish!” he cried out while impossibly large tears trailed down his face, “That means I'm _old_.”

For a moment, Tsuna's face was stuck in many different emotions until it finally settled with exasperation. He rolled his eyes, “Just go home, dad.”

The man adopted an exaggeratedly stricken look before fleeing the office in all his idiotic glory, all the while yelling out something about the betrayal of his own kin. Oh well, at least that was over with.

“Ahem.”

“Hie!” he almost jumped out of his seat, startled. His eyes finally found the source of the sound he had most definitely not expected.

It was Haru.

Oh.

He'd totally forgotten she was still there. He scratched the back of his head, laughing nervously. Then a thought struck him, “Ne, Haru. Why were you bringing those documents to the office?”

She seemed surprised by the question. “Oh! Timoteo-san offered to do your work for the time you're recuperating. I thought I'd make myself useful so I'm now apprenticing under the secretary, who will be retiring soon.”

He blinked. “Oh.”

“Moreover, Tsuna-san, shouldn't you be somewhere else right now? As in, not your office?”

He laughed nervously when she started giving off an intimidating aura. “Ah, well, you see...”

“Seriously.” she sighed, then perked up all of sudden, “Oh! I forgot! They came this morning. Tsuna-san, could you wait here for a moment?”

Flabbergasted at her sudden mood swing, he could only nod. With a spring in her step, she left the documents on his desk and exited the office. The brunet decided to get some more work done in the meantime. A certain sheet of paper on a corner of his desk caught his eye. He lifted it and read the page for what felt like the hundredth time. He'd thought he wouldn't be giving her this personally, since just a few days ago, his death had been a near certainty. Sighing, he folded the document and stored it inside his pocket, deciding to give it to her the moment he saw her.

Two sets of footsteps brought him out of his musings. He looked up to take in the two girls standing in his doorway.

“Hello, Boss.”

“Chrome?” he looked back at Haru, confusion clear on his face.

She just smiled at him and under some unnoticeable signal both girls held out their hands, a stack of black, thin boxes in each pair of hands. This only served to confuse him more. “What is this?”

Grinning all the way, the cheery one of the two set her stack on the desk before opening the box on top. Peeking in, his eyes widened at the sight. The flat, black box held inside a cushion of the same colour that was not unlike those in a jewelry shop. Set into small dents in said cushion were numerous thin, silver rings, each sporting a small yet incredibly bright stone the colour of his Sky flames.

“And that's not all! There's an inscription on the other side.” She pulled out a ring from the middle and turned it around for him to see. And indeed, on the side of the silver circlet where there was no stone, a small inscription had been engraved in a flowing font. It read: _Del Cielo_.

_Of the Sky._

He looked up to meet her eyes, then Chrome's. “Why?”

The Mist's gentle voice answered in her friend's stead, “For your Family. As a method of recognition. We thought you'd like to give each member of your Family something. We had them custom made so they're susceptible enough to flames to cause enough of a reaction so they shrink down to the size needed, but they're not battle rings so they won't take more flames than necessary, meaning they won't break from overexertion even if that person is using a great amount of flames.

“They can also slightly read emotions through the flames and detect if that person is in any danger, in which case they'll alert the main ring.” She brought out a smaller box and opened it, revealing exactly the same ring as all the other ones in the bigger box. However, further inspection would have shown the inscription on the back to be the kanji for _Sora_ instead. “This is yours.”

For what seemed like an eternity, all Tsuna could do was stare as his mind tried to process all the information it had just been given.

“...How?”

At this, Haru laughed sheepishly. “Ahaha, you see, I sort of slipped in the sheet for approval while you were in this weird trance of numbness you tend to enter when you overwork yourself. It was signed by the end of the day and we were able to use the money from Vongola's main account on this.”

He blinked, then nodded. When he was like that, he tended to only pay attention to the fundamentals of any document he signed. He had probably mistaken this one with a request for the production of battle rings in preparation for the ever approaching era of rings and boxes. He started chuckling when he realized that he'd been completely played.

“I guess I should pay more attention when I sign this stuff.”

“That you should.” said Haru in mocking admonishment while Chrome just smiled in reply.

“But this is...” It took a moment to find the right word, “...wow.” Gaze switching between the rings and the girls, he gave them the brightest smile he could muster. “Thank you. You two are amazing!”

They both blushed slightly at the utter brightness of that smile and Haru sputtered, “It- that's okay. Chrome di-did most of the work anyways. I just- just came up w-with the idea.”

He chuckled, “No matter. It's still a wonderful get well gift. I'll be sure to spread these to my Family.”

“I'm- we're glad you like it, Boss”

“I do.”

Her gaze then wandered towards the grandfather clock standing off to the side and her eyes widened. “Oh, no! I was supposed to meet Croquant-san five minutes ago!I- I'm sorry Boss, but I really need to go.” With that, she bowed quickly and left the other two.

Tsuna stared after her. Something was nagging at his mind, something important. Then it hit him. “Damn.”

Haru almost jumped, startled, “Hahi! What is it, Tsuna-san?”

“I forgot to give it to her!” he cried, taking the folded document out of his pocket.

* * *

 

“Three hit combo! Yeah!”

“Oh, you are _so_ gonna lose!”

“My sweet ass special ability begs to differ.”

“I'll unleash my special move! How about now?”

“Hey! That was a total cheat!”

“No, it wasn't.”

“Yes, it was!”

“You can't prove it.”

“Damn! No matter. I'll get my revenge with the next move.”

“What the hell? How come your character is so overpowered?”

“Hehe, you're going _down_.”

“Tch, not if I can help it!”

“Die! Die, die, die, die!”

“That's not very nice. Here I come.”

“Wait, no, wait, wait, what, no!”

“Hah! I win!”

“Gah! No fair!”

The two boys looked at each other, one beaming, the other glaring, until they simultaneously erupted into laughter.

“Pfft, you... actually shouted... _special move_...! Oh god, I can't...” The brunet gasped for breath while he juggled laughing and making fun of his friend.

Meanwhile, the taller of the two was in a similar situation. “Haha... and you... wouldn't stop yelling... _die!_ Pfff... hilarious.”

After a while, the both of them managed to calm down enough to hold a proper conversation. “Hah~ It's been a while. I feel like a kid all over again.” Tsuna sighed as he propped himself on his arms, a small laugh escaping him.

“I know. With all that's been going on, it's hard to find time for something like this. But you definitely needed it, you workaholic.” Takeshi set the controller down in order to massage his hand.

“Hey, I'm no workaholic. I just have a healthy fear of Reborn.”

He snorted, “That too.”

“Ne, Yamamoto.”

“Hm?”

“Why were we playing video games, again?”

The swordsman chuckled, “ _Because_ , you overworked, undead Don, we're teenagers, and that's what teenagers do.”

“I'm sixteen.”

“You're just proving my point.”

“I'm a Mafia Boss. Mafia Bosses don't play video games.”

He blinked at that, “What about Naito?”

Tsuna chuckled, “Naito is... special.”

“In what way?”

“In a special kind of way.”

Takeshi laughed, “You're not making sense, Tsuna. Think those Night Flames affected your brain too?”

“Oh, shut up.” He swatted the other's arm, which just served to make him laugh harder. The Sky smiled amusedly and then sighed, leaning on the sofa they were currently occupying. “But... this is nice. Ever... ever since _that night_... I haven't been able to do anything like this... you guys either since you followed me and all...”

“Aw, come one, Tsuna. Don't tell me you're starting to regret.”

“I'm not!” he defended, “It's just...”

Takeshi's eyes softened. “Tsuna, coming with you was our own choice. Sure, it might not be fun all the time and we've got a lot of responsibility on our shoulders, but we have each other for support and it's the life we chose. We're going through this with you whether you like it or not. You can bet on it.”

Tsuna stared wide eyed before his face broke into a grin, “I know.” He tilted his head backwards to look at the ceiling, smile still in place. “Thank you.”

His Rain simply offered his trademark grin of ultimate cheer. “So, how about another round?”

“You bet!”

* * *

 

“You have never had tea the western way before, right?”

“Hn.”

The ex-prefect and his Boss (though he would never admit it out loud) sat in a large lounge room mostly occupied by groupings of comfy sofas and heavy centre coffee tables.

Kyouya, for his part, had invited the brunet to a cup of tea simply to keep him from running around too much. He was still recuperating, thus having more free time than normal. A sixteen year old boy recuperating from an almost fatal ailment with too much free time was something that should be avoided at all costs, or at least that was his opinion on the matter. Therefore, tea.

Still, having grown up in a traditional Japanese household, tea for him meant a some green tea in bamboo cups from a low table accompanied by small cushions on a tatami floor. But, of course, just like the food, the cutlery and the absolutely abhorrent architecture, the act of drinking tea in Italy was also completely different from what he had been taught throughout his childhood.

First of all, Italians seemed to prefer coffee, making a nice blend of tea harder to find. Another thing would be the dishes: these ridiculously delicate, see-through cups and the rest of the unnecessarily adorned set.

Not to mention, getting a cup of green tea of actual quality seemed to be near impossible. Thus, black tea.

A soft voice brought him out of his musings and made him realize that he'd been staring at the empty cup for a while now, “It's a bit different to what we're used to from Japan, but I think I like it.”

He looked up to meet bright, chocolate brown eyes, so unlike those deadened, tired eyes he had met in that office just days before, “I prefer the eastern way.”

“Of course you would.”

“Is that supposed to imply anything?”

“Oh, no. Not at all! It's just... you've always seemed like a traditionalist. Just like how you only approved of the designs for the Foundation base when most of it was to look like a traditional Japanese house. You know, sliding doors, rice paper walls and all that.”

The skylark looked at him for a while, as if evaluating him, before pouring himself some more tea, “I may be one. I was brought up that way.”

“Hm, really?”

He managed to deign that question with a nod.

“Kyouya-san, you want to go back to Namimori as soon as possible, right?”

Once again, he met his eyes, “Of course.”

The Sky smiled, “We'll go back soon, once the construction is well underway.”

Staring for a bit longer, he turned back to his tea, nodding matter-of-factly even as his lips threatened to stretch into the ghost of a smile, but didn't quite succeed. “Of course.” he repeated.

* * *

 

“You garden?” he asked with some disbelief.

The older, white haired boy turned his head to look at him, clearly startled. His expression then morphed into one of amusement with a hint of wistfulness. “Where do you think all those sunflowers for Kyouko come from?” His grin was blindingly brilliant. “Yes, I extremely do!”

Tsuna cringed at the volume but recovered quickly, having grown used to his Guardian's antics over the years. His gaze swept over the sea of colours curiously, somehow attracted to the undeniable thrum of life in different shapes and sizes presented as flowers. Turning is attention back towards Ryohei, he hesitated for a moment before speaking up again.

“Do you need help?”

The Sun's grin widened further, “Sure! The more the merrier, right?”

He nodded enthusiastically, “Un.” Keeling beside him, he helped out as much as he could, watering the plants, pulling out weeds and basically doing everything the boxer told him to.

A while later, once he had finished his current task, he gazed at his companion who was busy taking care of a particularly frail exemplar. Brow furrowed in concentration, he held it as a small, yellow flame erupted from the ring on his hand, engulfing the plant in its entirety.

“Onii-san?!” Tsuna called out, alarmed. Said boy turned to him, smiled and turned back to the flower. His own attention shifted back to it as well just in time to see it bloom into a strong, healthy blossom.

It was a fascinating sight, not to mention utterly beautiful. So enthralled he was by this process that the hand that landed on his shoulder startled him more than it probably should have. The other teen paid this no mind, though, as he sent yet another blinding grin his way. “How about you try it out, Tsuna?”

The brunet blushed lightly, but shook his head, “I don't have Sun flames, Onii-san. At the most, I think I'd just turn them to stone.” he looked back at the flowers as he scratched the back of his head, “Statues of flowers are nice and all, but I think I prefer them alive and colourful. Just like this.”

Ryohei seemed utterly flabbergasted at this statement, “Oh. I didn't think of that.”

Taking a look at his face, Tsuna could not help but chuckle. “It's okay. I would've never thought of using sun flames to help plants grow either. How'd you come up with that anyway?”

The older teen tilted his head in a pondering manner, “Hmm, well, I normally use them to heal people, right? So I extremely thought that I could heal plants too, since they tend to wither so often. It just felt right, I guess.”

Tsuna blinked, “Onii-san, when did you start gardening?”

“Huh? Oh, Kyouko and I used to help out Kaa-san with the gardening. It's been a few years, so I guess the habit stuck.”

“So Kyouko-chan liked gardening, huh? Somehow, it doesn't surprise me.” He said gently as I small smile graced his lips.

Ryohei shared his smile, “Aa. She used to say that it helped her calm down and clear her mind. Now that I think about it, it kinda does.”

Tsuna regarded him for a few moments, taking in the sight before him. “You've gotten calmer lately.”

“So have you.”

“In a different way.” He sighed, “I guess people do change over time.”

“They extremely do! And the world changes with them. Ne, Redemption of the Vongola?” he teased.

The small brunet scoffed. “Oh, shut up. That wasn't my idea.”

“You say that but you're planning exactly that, aren't you?”

His eyes widened as he looked back at the other. When had Onii-san become so... sharp? Even though he still was completely dense most of the time.

The boxer's grin grew, “I'm your Sun, Tsuna. I'm bound to understand my Sky, being the light and all that.”

“...when did you start talking metaphors?”

“Metaphors?”

He snorted, “Forget it. 's not important.” His gaze swept over the garden once again, “I'm no redemption, but I still want to redeem this Famiglia that was entrusted to me by grandpa and even Primo. It might not happen with me, nor with my successor, but it will eventually.”

His head tilted upward, giving him open view of the clear sky.

“That's what I promised them.”

* * *

 

“Check.”

“Oya oya, you've gotten better Tsunayoshi.”

“Well, one does tend to pick some things up when getting one's butt handed to him several times consecutively.”

“Perhaps, but that's still not enough.” He lifted his bishop and placed it on a deceivingly innocent looking square. “Check mate.”

“...”

“...”

“What.”

“It's right there. Just look for it.”

“...oh. Dang.”

“Which one is this?”

“The ninth defeat this week.”

“And it's just Monday.”

“Ugh.”

“Kufufufu, what? No declaration of revenge?”

“It's a bit hard when the only thing I can manage in this game is stalling for time before my ultimate and inevitable demise.”

Mukuro whistled, “Whoo, when was the last time I saw you being so negative?”

“Two months ago, when Naito came for a surprise visit.”

“Right. There was that time.”

“You know, you're being surprisingly friendly today.”

“You mean to say 'suspiciously'.”

“That too.”

“Kufufufu, my dear Chrome has taken quite a liking to that baking book you gave her for her birthday. I had the honour of trying out her freshly baked, double layered chocolate cake this morning.”

“Ah. Let me guess: it was great.”

“It was heavenly.”

“And _that_ 's got you in such a good mood?”

“Ah, your ignorance about the wonders of chocolate is so sad, Tsunayoshi. Truly.”

“...you're a chocolate addict? Hm, I learned something new today. But that's today. Why did you agree to playing with me _yesterday_?”

“The Vongola doesn't fully trust me-” Tsuna muttered something along the lines of _'Which is understandable'_ , “-so I get assigned less missions than all the other Guardians, not to mention, I don't really need training like Chrome. Thus I, just like you, have much too much time to kill.”

“Oh. That makes sense.”

They sunk into a comfortable silence while Tsuna rearranged the pieces on the board, if only to give it a more aesthetically pleasing look.

“Hey, Mukuro. What you said to me back then-”

He clicked his tongue, “I've said many things to you. Be more specific.”

Tsuna fidgeted a bit. “I meant that night before I almost... when I was talking to Chrome...”

Recognition sparked in his eyes.

“ _... the first time we met, I tried to posses you, then to kill you. You shipped me off to Vendicare. I never really wanted anything to do with this world, but ended up following her here anyway...”_

_Tsuna waited, amber staring into ruby and sapphire._

“ _I don't know you enough to be able to mourn you.” he stated and his gaze intensified, “Then why...” after a moment longer of staring, he averted his gaze and chuckled bitterly, “You are so full of contradictions, Tsunayoshi.”_

“Ah... that.”

“Mukuro, you... you're my Mist Guardian-”

“No, Chrome is your Mist.”

“Both of you are my Guardians! Even if you don't carry a ring to prove it, you're still one of us.” The illusionist stilled, staring at him intently. He took this as a cue to continue. “Even if... no, _because_ you're my Guardian, I... I want there to be more. More than just business. More than an indirect relationship to make ends meet.”

Heterochromatic eyes narrowed, “What are you trying to say?”

Tsuna took a deep breath and released it. “You said you don't know me enough, but fact of the matter is, I don't really know you either. Because you followed Chrome, you automatically became the seventh Guardian, but that means you will probably spend the rest of your life not only by her side, but by mine as well.”

He was silently urged to continue.

“What I mean is... if we want this to work for such a long time... there has to be trust. _Mutual_ trust.” He looked him square in the eye. “We have to actually know each other, so... I was thinking... why don't we start from the beginning?”

Mukuro raised an elegant eyebrow at this. “The beginning...?”

“Let's start off again with a blank slate, leave everything else behind. Vendicare, Kokuyo land, revenge and hurt, all of it.”

The Mist was silent for a moment as Tsuna allowed him to process everything he'd just heard.

“I...” he finally said, “...may agree to this. Under the right circumstances, of course.”

Tsuna was positively beaming at this point. He raised his arm, “I'm Sawada Tsunayoshi, Vongola Don.”

After a moment of hesitation, he grasped the Sky's hand with his own, completing the handshake. “Rokudo Mukuro, Mist Guardian.”

“It's a pleasure to meet you.”

* * *

 

It was while wandering the halls of the mansion in the search for his female Mist Guardian that Tsuna encountered a most curious sight. Three nameless subordinates (gosh, he was so bad with names it was embarrassing) and what appeared to be a quietly sobbing Lambo were sitting in a circle in of the more unused hallways, each holding a set of cards in their hands while the deck was lying in the middle of their little circle.

But what drew Tsuna's attention was not this particular scene. No, what really stood out were the three piles of deadly and dangerous weapons beside each of the men and the lack thereof (or of anything else worth noting) beside the boy.

Curious and for once willing to take advantage of his title, he approached them. “What's going on here?”

One of them looked up but quickly dismissed him, “Piss off, kid. This is none of yer concern.”

Annoyed, he crossed his arms. “Isn't it?”

“I said-”

“Wait! Stop!” yelled the one to his right, having made out the features of said 'kid' in the gloom of the hallway, “You idiot! Do you want to die?”

“What? Lidio, what're you talki-”

“That's the Boss, you imbecile! Decimo!”

At his words, the two other men froze and slowly turned to look, really _look_ at him. Then, almost as one, they rose up quickly and awkwardly. “D-decimo! We're very sorry for our conduct! Please spare us!”

He stared at them for a moment, making them fidget. “That's alright. I'm not one to hold grudges.” He could practically feel the relief oozing from them. “But-” He watched amusedly as they tensed up again. Maybe Reborn was rubbing off on him more than he realized. “What exactly are you doing here?”

“U-um, well, you see, we were just playing some poker since we don't have patrol duty or any kind of missions right now.”

He raised an unimpressed eyebrow, “With _him_?” he asked, pointing at the sobbing and still oblivious Lambo.

“Well, yeah. The brat just came out of nowhere and said he wanted to play or somethin'. We let him join since he wouldn't have shut up otherwise.”

“And all those weapons?”

“We have no idea! Since didn't have any money, we told to bet whatever he had. He's been pulling those out of his hair! How does that even work?” Somehow intimidated by the short teenage boy in front of him, he felt compelled to defend his sanity. “I'm telling the truth! I'm not making any of it up! It's all true, right guys?”

The other two hurriedly nodded in agreement. Tsuna sighed, “No, it's okay. I believe you. I was planning on banning all his weapons anyway. No better time than the present, I guess.”

They looked confused at the familiarity in his tone.

“Just out of curiosity, Boss...”

“Hm?”

“Do you know this kid?”

“You don't?” they shook their heads somewhat hesitantly. His lips quirked up in amusement, “You do realize you've been bullying my Lightning Guardian, right?”

At that, they paled.

For once withholding his calming presence and leaving the three as one big nervous wreck, he walked up to the snivelling child and picked him up. “Tsu-tsuna-nii?”

“Come on, Lambo. I'll play with you so stop crying.”

“Tsuna-nii...” he sobbed, “They took all my weapons! I didn't even know what we were playing!”

The 'older brother' sighed in aggravation. “Lambo, you won't be getting those back, if that's what you're trying to hint at. You might have been scammed, but it was still a deal.”

“But- but- !”

“No buts.” He declared the issue closed. Then, an idea struck him, “Hey, how about I teach you how to play poker so something like this doesn't happen again?”

The cow child stilled his whines and cries of unfairness, “R-really?”

“Sure, why not.”

“Gyahaha! Lambo-sama is going to learn poker!”

“Hey! Not so loud. You'll blow my ear off!”

The boy though didn't pay his words any mind as he jumped down and circled around the still walking Tsuna with the boundless energy that seemingly all children seemed to possess until they reached their destination.

Once there, Tsuna found that the room wasn't empty. Fuuta and I-pin were there, staring at the enormous bowl of cookies on one of the coffee tables.

“Where did those come from?” he asked into the room. The kids turned around at the sound.

“Tsuna-nii!” exclaimed Fuuta, “Chrome-nee gave us these. But there's so many we don't even know where to with them.”

Lambo then chose that moment to start bragging, “Hmph! That's nothing. Tsuna-nii promised to teach Lambo-san how to play poker!”

“Eh? Really? Is that true Tsuna-nii?”

He scratched the back of his head embarrassedly, “Well, yeah. You two can join in if you want.”

““Yeah!””

“And we can divide the cookies equally and use them as chips. How does that sound?”

I-pin nodded energetically. “Great idea!”

“Okay then, I just need to find the deck and we can get started.” he told them as he approached a chest of drawers in a corner of the room.

Now, while Tsuna was not at a professional level or anything of the sort, he did indeed know how to play. Not only that, he was actually quite good at it. Of course, with his horrible luck, that was only when he cheated (though Reborn liked to call it 'using all means at your disposal').

Letting just the tiniest bit of flames into his system – a small enough amount that wouldn't even affect his recovery, though the doctors had forbid any major use of flames for the time being – his face automatically became a mask of perfect blankness, showing nothing and betraying nothing. Yamamoto tended to joke that it was his 'serious battle face', but it also worked perfectly as a poker face.

As a side effect of this, a small part of his Hyper Intuition even bled into his consciousness, letting him use it and manipulate it at will.

These two factors were the reason why, some time later, the bowl of cookies lay on his side of the table, filled to the brim. Not a single piece of confectionery remained on the table.

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, a nervous laugh escaping his lips.

“Well, since you guys already know how to play, how about we all just eat the cookies together, ne?”

* * *

 

Tones, arranged in a harmonious melody that expressed a myriad of emotions yet none at all, filled the nearly empty room and danced in the air, teasingly escaping through the door and the open windows.

Their origin was the sleek piano in the middle of the room, it's onyx and ivory keys being pressed in inexplicable patterns by the long, slender fingers of one silver haired boy who was deeply immersed in the music he himself was playing.

As the music reached its climax and then slowed to an end, his fingers stilled on the keys while he took in a breath.

“That was beautiful.”

“Gya!” Hayato startled and quickly turned towards the now open door, “Ju-juudaime!”

Said boy smiled in reply. “Though I don't really know much about music so I can't tell who composed that.”

Getting over his shock, he looked down at the keys. “That piece was... composed by my mother.”

“Oh.” he said, then quickly added on, “She must have been very talented.”

A small smile tugged at the pianist's lips, “She truly was.”

There was a lull in the conversation for a moment. Then, Tsuna looked back at the piano. “I... hope it's not too much trouble, but... would you play for me?”

The boy's eyes widened, “W-what? Why? Juudaime, I'm not very good and-”

“Nonsense. Give yourself some credit, Gokudera-kun. What I heard was wonderful.”

“But... why...”

At that, he sighed, “Well, everyone's sort of getting on my case and telling me that I should rest and relax and not walk around or do anything even remotely work-related. I just feel like I could actually relax listening to you play.” He ended the sentence with a kind, sheepish smile.

Hayato hesitated, “I...”

“Oh, you don't need to force yourself. If you don't want to then-”

“I'll do it!” he shouted suddenly, not entirely aware that he had just interrupted his Boss, “I... I'll do it, Juudaime. So just sit down and enjoy.”

“...thanks.”

For the next few minutes, music filled the air yet again, mixing with the sound of the wind and the chirps of the birds outside in the garden. With his eyes closed in contentment, the brunet could picture the notes dancing around each other, mixing and separating to the tune they themselves created.

Too soon, it was over and he slowly opened his eyes again – only to see his Storm's face contorted as if in pain, fists clenched tightly and hovering millimetres over the keys.

“Gokudera-kun?” he called worriedly, “Is something wrong?”

A minute passed with no reply, but just when he thought there would be none, the pianist spoke up, “Juudaime... you once told me... that I should cherish my own life... because there was still a lot of things we had yet to do together with everyone.”

Tsuna sat silently, wondering where this was going.

“Then... I don't want to sound impudent, but...” He looked up and suddenly Tsuna could see grief, relief and anger in his shining teal eyes. “...please follow your own advice, Juudaime!”

The brunet remained silent, but this time more out of shock than curiosity, as his Guardian continued.

“Everyone else is pretending it never happened. They're trying to escape the truth, running away from it or simply making fun of it. I wanted to do that too. Just forget about it all and keep on living happily, but.... but I can't in good conscience, erase that from my memories.

“You almost died! And that... that's a fact we can't simply erase. It was horrible, like getting a chunk of my heart torn out. But, precisely _because_ of that, I don't want it to happen again. So _please_ ,” Tsuna almost flinched at the pure, raw emotion in his voice, “cherish your own life as much as you cherish ours.”

“ _Then maybe I simply deserve to die.”_

_SLAP._

“ _How could you say something like that! What about those you'd be leaving behind? Don't you care about us? What do you think we would do without you?!”_

For a moment, the room was entirely silent, with neither music nor words to fill the air as both teenagers tried to cope with the numerous raging feelings that were threatening to break out.

Finally, the Sky took the initiative to speak, “I...” he started, “...I'm sorry. Really sorry. I didn't... I didn't realize...” Words failed him for a moment as he took a deep breath to compose himself. “I will. I promise.”

Hayato looked at him for a moment. Then, he smiled in apparent relief, as if having found what he'd been looking for.

“Thank you.”

“Don't. I was being selfish and stupid.”

“Still.”

Once again, comfortable silence permeated the air, meant to be broken shortly after its beginning.

“Would you play another piece for your selfish Sky?”

Hayato's eyes softened and his fingers immediately sought the keys, “Of course.”

And this time, Tsuna didn't close his eyes as he observed the silver haired youth play with an incredible passion that sent his inner flames roaring and such deep, pure emotion that his heart started beating in tandem with the music and so intensely it felt as if it would burst any minute.

Yet again, at the end, the musician's fingers laid motionlessly on the keys, as if awaiting the command to keep playing at a moments notice.

At that moment, there was clapping. He looked at Tsuna, only to see that it wasn't him as he looked just as confused as he himself was. Looking around, he found the source of the sound at the open doorway, a tall, slender, pink haired woman.

“Agh! Aneki!”

He quickly turned his back to her, clutching his stomach and fully expecting the pain and nausea to hit any moment. Only, it never came.

“Now, that's no way to greet your beautiful sister, is it, Hayato?”

Slowly and very reluctantly, he turned back around to face her and finally took in her appearance. She was in her usual attire: tight pants, a sleeveless shirt, hair down, glasses-

Wait, what?

He looked closer. Yep, those were glasses. Horn rimmed to be exact.

“Are those... new?”

“What? Oh, you mean these?” she pointed at his object of observation, to which he nodded, “Yeah, apparently, I'm actually somewhat short sighted and not comfortable with contacts at all.”

“...really?”

So fascinated he was by this new found discovery, that he never noticed Tsuna sneaking out of the room to leave the two siblings alone, smile still firmly in place.

* * *

 

“There you are!”

“Kya!”

“Oh, sorry! Are you okay?”

“B-boss?”

He bent down to help her pick up the bowl she had let fall when he'd startled her.

“You've been looking for me?”

“What? Oh, yes, I have.”

“Why”

He looked around, taking in the current appearance of the kitchen. It seemed she had indeed bit as busy throughout the last few weeks as others led him to believe. “That can wait. So, I see you've put that book I gave you to good use.”

“Huh?” she tilted her head confusedly and he motioned at the flour covered kitchen, making her blush in embarrassment, “O-oh, that, well... I... enjoy it.”

“Baking?”

She nodded, “Un. I'm not that great at cooking in general like Haru-san or Kyouko-san, but they used to tell me often that I could bake really well, so...”

“Then you should probably check on those muffins in the oven.”

Her eyes widened, “Ah! I completely forgot!” she stood up quickly and almost ran over to the oven, opening it and backing out just before the heat wave reached her face. She took one look at the muffins inside and her shoulders sagged in relief. “They're okay.”

“You really enjoy this, don't you?”

She flashed him a small smile, “I do. Thank you for the book, Boss.”

He scratched his cheek, embarrassed. “You already thanked me. No need to do it twice.”

She giggled and turned back to the tray of muffins, “Would you like one?” She held up the sugary treat.

Tsuna, not one to refuse anything made with sugar, gladly accepted. He looked around once more. It was quite a mess in here. “Say, do you need help?”

“Help?”

“As in, with the washing and all that.”

“Oh, no. You don't need to do that, Boss-”

“But you're running out of space to work on.”

At that, she stilled, then turned to actually look at the kitchen, “...whoops.”

He laughed lightly at her expression, “You know, I used to help my mom out in the kitchen every once in a while. I can actually wash dishes. So...”

“...your help would be much appreciated.” she said softly, a light blush lighting up her cheeks, “I honestly don't know how it became like this.”

This just made him laugh more. Pulling up his sleeves, he started collecting various bowls and utensils and bringing to the admittedly overfilled sink. Humming a catchy tune, he got to work on washing while Chrome looked around for a towel to dry the dishes with.

“ _Hane ga nai tenshi wa boku ni itta._ ” he sang absentmindedly under his breath, “ _Ie he to kaeru chizu wo nakushita._ ”

“ _Hiriki na boku wa efude wo totte._ ” he startled and almost let go of the knife he was currently holding when another voice chimed in a far clearer voice, “ _Kawaita e no gu ni mizu wo sasu._ ”

“Eh? You know that song?” he asked, completely forgetting about the task at hand.

She smiled shyly, “It was quite the hit three or so years ago. I'm surprised _you_ do, though, Boss.”

He laughed sheepishly, “My mom listened to it a lot when she was preparing dinner. It sort of stuck.”

She giggled and he smiled in reply. As they finally finished washing the dishes, he dried his hands and cleared his throat. “Uhm, well, the actual reason I was looking for you,” he fished out a piece of folded paper from his pocket, “is this.”

She took it and unfolded, growing more confused the more she read, “Boss, what is this?”

“It's an appointment at the hospital.”

She looked up, “But for what?”

“An organ transplant.”

“...” she stared at him for a while, unbelieving. “But... I...”

He sighed, “I know that you can maintain your illusionary organs and all that, Chrome, but there might come a time when you are very low on flames and just can't anymore. I don't want that to happen, however small the possibility may be.”

She kept staring at him, then looked back at the paper, then back at him. Before he knew it, she had her arms around his neck, her next words muffled through the embrace, “Thank you.”

Tsuna sputtered for a moment, cheeks a light pink, “That's alright.”

“Thank you.” she insisted.

He paused, then softly said, “You're welcome.”

They stood like that for a while, comfortable in each other's presence, until Tsuna finally noticed the obvious.

“Um, Chrome? You can let go now.”

“Ah!” she immediately backed down, utterly embarrassed by her own behaviour, “I'm sorry! I didn't mean-”

“It's okay.” he tried to calm her down, “I'm glad that you actually agreed.”

At that, she sent him the most brilliant smile he had ever seen her don. “Thank you, Boss.”

He smiled back, “No problem.”

* * *

 

Throughout the weeks of Tsuna's recuperation, certain small, black packages, each containing the same silver rings with small orange stones, were sent out to their owners-to-be while several were also distributed to many particular individuals within the Vongola mansion itself, immediately taking their rightful place on the fingers of Guardians, friends, friends of Guardians and the Ninth generation.

Three of these boxes arrived at Varia Headquarters, one at the Tomasso masion, one at he Cavallone mansion, one at the Gesso mansion and two more at the Giglio Nero Headquarters.

Unsurprisingly, another pair of these boxes arrived at the CEDEF base while seven were sent over to the Shimon base in Palermo and a single one to a certain strongest man in Italy at an undisclosed location.

Finally, several days later, these boxes also reached the faraway eastern lands of China and Japan, the former which only had one box delivered to a secluded house in the mountains. One such box was also delivered to the Kusakabe household in Japan, one to the Kurokawa household and two each to the Sasagawa and Irie households, the latter of which a certain young inventor was currently visiting, a fact that the Vongola was well aware of.

Lastly, a pair of these boxes also arrived at the Sawada household. One of the rings was already being worn by one Sawada Nana, while the other waited in the living room still in its box for its rightful owner.

With each box came a small note written by Sawada Tsunayoshi, explaining the purpose of the rings and their necessity.

Not even weeks had passed since then and the rumours had already started to spread.

Sawada Tsunayoshi, _il Capo di Vongola_ , had claimed his Family as his own and made it quite clear who exactly belonged to it, apparently encompassing not only the Vongola, but even members of allied Famiglie, standalone Mafiosi and even completely unrelated people. Some, mostly of the more idiotic kind, took it as a challenge, but most Mafiosi worth their salt who were well informed in the going ons of their world saw what it really was.

A warning.

And a promise of slaughter should the former be ignored.


	10. The Woes of Being Mafia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes, this is an actual arc beginning. no I’m not confusing dec. 1st with april 1st. all you teenagers out there, try not to let it get to you.

It started the day after Tsuna sent out the 'family rings', as Haru liked to put it, to their rightful owners.

Hayato had been sent, yet again, to retrieve his Boss who was late for breakfast. Deciding that it was too early to find him in the office, he'd gone left instead, towards his private chambers. Once at the heavily reinforced door he had rather unsuccessfully tried to kick down mere weeks ago, he knocked.

“Juudaime! Breakfast's ready. We're waiting for you.”

What he got in reply, however, was not said boy's shrill, panicked voice after realizing he was late for a meal – again – but a rather indistinct and in his honest opinion somewhat disturbing noise. Slightly worried, he called out again. “Juudaime?”

For a moment nothing could be heard. Just as he was about to pull out his emergency key, the door burst open, giving him full view of the obviously hastily dressed brunet in all his morning glory. He walked out of the room and shut the door behind him, giving the silver haired teen a bright, if only the slightest bit strained smile and a nod in acknowledgement of his previous statement.

Hayato paused for only a moment before leading Tsuna towards the dining room, as had almost become custom during the last few months. They walked together in comfortable silence for a while, until curiosity got the better of him.

“Juudaime, is everything alright?”

He received a confused glance for his efforts.

“Ah, no, it's just, I heard something weird from your room a moment ago.”

Realization dawned in Tsuna's eyes accompanied by something else that was quickly covered up before he sent him a reassuring smile which succeeded magnificently in defusing any of his worries.

Finally arriving at their destination, they sat down in their respective seats, thus allowing breakfast to officially begin (which really hadn't deterred Reborn from serving himself some food beforehand).

During the entire meal, Hayato noticed, Tsuna didn't speak a single word.

* * *

 

“Is he giving us the cold shoulder?”

It had been five days already since that incident and even the densest members of Tsuna's family in his immediate vicinity had already figured out something was wrong. After all, why else would said Sky stop talking for days on end?

In all five days, he had not said a single word. When he was asked to, he somehow changed the subject. When he was bribed, he just smiled and walked away. Even when Reborn had threatened to have an extensive tortu- erm, training session, he'd simply whimpered while still shaking his head vigorously.

It was off-putting and no one really knew what to do about it, which lead to the current conversation, spurred on by Takeshi's absentminded question.

Hayato snorted at the mere thought and made to retort, but Haru beat him to it, eliciting a glare from the bomber, which she masterfully ignored. “I don't think so. We haven't really done anything wrong and he can't exactly be mad at the world. Besides, he's still kind and friendly to everyone, just like always. He's just more... quiet about it.”

Takeshi hummed in acknowledgement.

“Maybe he's sick and can't speak?” offered Chrome, but the possibility was quickly shot down by Ryohei.

“No, I already checked. Aside of the internal damage that's pretty much gone by now, there's nothing wrong with him. He _has_ grown a few inches, though...” the last part was almost muttered as the boxer sank back into his worried thoughts.

Mukuro, quickly growing tired of this, finally voiced the idea that everyone had been thinking about but no one had been willing to propose, “How about we just ask him directly?”

“He couldn't answer, stupid pineapple.”

Mukuro bristled at the silver haired boy but kept himself under control, if only to get this over with as quickly as possible, “I _know_ that, you ignorant fool. But nothing is keeping him from writing it down, is it? And if he doesn't want to, there's always other ways...” he ended the statement vaguely, allowing them to imagine whatever their minds conjured up.

Evidently, it worked as Hayato suddenly shot up from his chair, hands twitching towards his hidden dynamite stash in an age old habit. “Don't you _dare_ do _anything_ to Juudaime, you-”

“Maa, maa, maybe you should calm down, Gokudera. Nothing will come out of it if you start fighting and we still haven't figured this out.”

Said boy sent him a heated glare, which he knew to smile away from experience, before clicking his tongue and sitting back down, his mood definitely not improved from its previous state.

“But... I guess you're right. Maybe we should just ask.” Takeshi looked towards Mukuro, waiting for a reaction.

Said illusionist snorted derisively, “Of course I'm right. And I will not waste any more time here than necessary.” He walked out the door, quickly followed by his female counterpart.

Ryouhei looked at the remaining people in the room, taking in Hayato's grumbles of frustration and Takeshi's sheepish shrug before running out the door himself, the rest following suit after a moment's hesitation.

“Oi! Wait for us to the extreme!”

* * *

 

As it turned out, having all members of Tsuna's family from the Vongola mansion together in one place was a very bad idea. The effects were multiplied, however, if said get-together took place in the Boss' office, which was filled to the brim with priceless artefacts, antique objects and mountains of _very important_ documents.

Tsuna, for his part, was on the verge of panicking. They had all just suddenly barged in, demanding an explanation for his sudden muteness, but had shortly thereafter noticed that they didn't all fit into the office, not giving him any chance to answer.

Thus, his office was overcome with chaos.

He sighed and ran a hand down his face. First week back in the job and he already had to deal with this. He even had a good reason for his behaviour too!

Well, at least he considered it a good reason, though, having tried speaking numerous times while alone in his room, his primary reason was pretty much gone by now. The only other reason why he hadn't spoken a word to anyone was a bit more childish, which made him embarrassed.

He scanned the room to distract himself. Out of everyone here, Takeshi seemed the calmest of them all. Perhaps he could defuse the situation as he usually did.

Alas, it was not to be, as the Rain himself had no idea what to do. It was way to cramped in here and he could barely move. He just hoped they didn't break anything too important.

“Turf top! I'll blow you to bits!”

A growl.

“Kufufufu, your movements are slowing, skylark.”

A shriek.

Takeshi winced. Yeah, he could hope, but that didn't seem to mean much.

“Everyone STOP!”

Those two words seemingly cut through the chaos in the room, leaving only stunned silence in their wake. The voice that had shouted them was foreign to all of them and many found themselves looking for the source.

It was deep, a man's voice, yet not enough to be grating. It seemed smooth and silky, a voice that could relax you with a single word and convince you that yes, the sky was indeed green, with five. Its melodious quality left them all dazedly looking around.

Then it came again.

“All of you, get out of my office! NOW!”

Now that there was no chaos in the way, it was easy to pinpoint the source.

Everyone looked towards the desk at the front of the room, where a single brunet, eyes blazing in disapproval, stood expectantly, waiting for them to comply.

They all froze in their tracks.

What.

No, seriously.

_What._

They stood there, brains shutting down and starting back up repeatedly, trying to process what was going on and failing miserably. Finally, someone broke the silence, snapping them out of their self-imposed trance.

“J-j-ju-juud-d-daim-me...?”

The centre of everyone's attention sighed resignedly, a mild blush of embarrassment decorating his cheeks. “Yes, Gokudera-kun?”

And there it was again. That voice. That unfamiliar yet alluring voice. There was no doubt now.

Takeshi, being his obliviously cheerful self, finally offered the plausible explanation everybody else had been looking for.

“Oh! So you're a late bloomer, Tsuna!”

Tsuna spluttered.

* * *

 

“Wait, so let me get this straight.” interjected Haru, who was looking more incredulous by the second, “You stopped talking the moment your voice change started because you didn't want us to hear you like that.”

He nodded.

“And when it was finished, you just kept silent because you thought the sudden change was embarrassing.”

He flushed, but nodded again.

She sighed, shaking her head, “Well, at least it's nothing bad.”

“But you must have talked at _some_ point.” Takeshi inquired.

Tsuna muttered something inaudible.

Mukuro frowned irritatedly, “What was that?”

Tsuna was starting to resemble a tomato, “I talked to myself when I was alone.”

They blinked, but decided not to comment on that, lest their Boss die of high blood pressure.

In the end, it was decided that this incident would be kept under wraps. Most of them being teenagers, they all easily agreed.

After all, no one wanted to be reminded of the horrors of puberty.

* * *

 

Surprisingly enough, the voice incident was quickly forgotten as more pressing issues entered the stage. In fact, it was mostly preparations for what Tsuna had sworn to do even before he'd officially accepted the Boss' mantle. He was preparing to do what he'd been meaning to from the very beginning, but had not gotten the chance to start.

He was preparing to change the Vongola.

And the entirety of the Mafia by extension.

Needless to say, it was very stressful work.

The Vongola, he knew, was not considered the bloodiest Famiglia out there for nothing. While not all at the same time, the Famiglia  _had_ been involved in every kind of shady trade out there at some point or other; from weapons and human trafficking and drug trade to loansharkings, extortion and smuggling. Not to mention indiscriminate murder of those in their way. They'd had it all.

Sure, they had started to tone down with the ninth generation, but that wasn't nearly enough to uproot centuries of habit and tradition. This was why Nono hadn't asked him to simply change the Famiglia.

He'd asked to tear it down and build it up from its roots.

Sadly, as much as Tsuna would have loved to, it was near impossible to do that without completely and utterly destroying it and any influence it currently held in both the world and the underworld. While he wouldn't have minded starting a completely new vigilante group, he knew that firstly, it would throw the whole international Mafia in disarray, and secondly, said influence was very much needed if he wanted to get away with what he was trying to do.

So, as gladly as he would have gotten rid of all these illicit activities his Famiglia partook in, he really couldn't ditch them all. Otherwise, he would suddenly find himself with absolutely no income to work with and his already quite delicate house of cards would collapse on him. Therefore, his goal was to slowly shift the Vongola towards more... guilt-free sources of income.

This meant that he would probably be keeping drugs and weapons trade, since as much as it made the world worse, they really weren't forcing anyone to buy their goods. The morals were twisted at best, but hey, he was a Mafia Boss. It sort of came with the package.

Also the Varia. He really didn't want an assassination squad. But, favours and tentative friendships aside, there were some people in the world you simply couldn't reason with. You know, the ones who tried to screw up the world more than it already was (pre-death Byakuran being a prime example). Those people were what he still needed the Varia for, not to mention extra forces in the very probable case of a disagreeing party starting a full-out war.

He winced as he saw an image of his younger self in his mind's eye, berating him for such thoughts. Sighing, he leaned back on his chair. Back then he had been so innocent, so soft – not jaded – and had held his ideals at heart. He sometimes wished he could go back to simpler times, when he could verbally deny his fate while stubbornly ignoring the impossibility of escape.

Sighing once more, he sat back up and went back to work. The transition to the vigilante group the Vongola had started as would be gradual and a long, bumpy ride, that was for sure. He was attempting the same as the previous generation, but this time it would work, if only because he was stubborn enough to see this through until the end.

Ah, that brought back some memories. He smiled wistfully, remembering the first time he had taken everything into his own two hands. Back then he'd been willing to move mountains for the sake of the one baby hitman who had stubbornly refused his help. The feeling was the same now.

It hadn't worked before because Nono had been too gradual about it, too compliant, and everything had eventually gone back to its previous state. Tsuna, however, would do this far more erratically. While the change would be gradual in a certain sense, he would also make sure to push it as much as possible before everyone else's patience broke, at which point he would clean up and keep pushing once everything was calm again.

If there was one thing he knew, it was that he couldn't simply leave it to change itself; he had to have a hand in it. It wouldn't be easy, sure, but he was determined to get this done.

Then again, while most of it  _would_ be gradual (if at an exponential rate), the first step... would be more like a  _leap_ . The first signs of change had to be big, which would probably come as a punch in the gut or a bucket of ice water for the more complacent members of his Famiglia.

He held in a wince. No, they wouldn't like it. Neither in the Vongola, nor in its allies.

That's why the first speech, the one that would break this to his entire Famiglia in less than an hour, would probably make or break his plans. The moment they turned their backs to him was the moment everything would fail. They might even be so outraged that he and his Guardians would have to flee from the underground. To where, he had no idea.

He shuddered. He really hoped it didn't come to that.

Managing to calm himself down, he stood up and walked out of his office and towards his rooms. He had to take a shower.

After all, he had to give the most important speech of his life in two hours and it really wouldn't do to appear in front of the entire Famiglia covered in nervous sweat.

At least he didn't sound like a brat anymore. That ought to earn him some points.

Hopefully.

* * *

 

BANG.

Sweat trickled down his neck, soaking his shirt.

BANG.

His visor was starting to fog up.

BANG.

His arms were stiff and sore.

BANG. BANG.

He didn't care.

And the next shot would be-

“Boss?”

!!!

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

He let the hand with the pistol hang beside him while he raised the other one to rub his face, then looked at his _most certainly_ unexpected companion.

“...Chrome? What are you doing here?”

She startled, “A-ah, I just... wanted to check on you. We haven't seen you since your... speech. Though, I didn't think you'd be doing target practice...”

He sighed heavily, “It's okay, Chrome.”

She looked at the human-shaped target at the other side of the room. It was riddled with holes, but except for a few, they were all on non-lethal locations: arms, legs, hips, shoulders, ears. “B-but you don't seem to be doing well with a gun, except for those last four shots.”

He released a dry chuckle accompanied by a weary smile, “That's because I was aiming at non-vital areas. Those last four were an accident.”

Her eyes widened and she looked back at the target. The only four holes that _were_ in a vital area were nailed perfectly centralized at the forehead, the neck, the heart and the crotch.

And that was an _accident_?

Gulping when she heard the distinct sound of a gun being loaded behind her, she silently wondered if Reborn's tutoring methods were all about making his students absolutely terrifying without them knowing.

“B-boss?”

“Hm?”

“Why are you here?”

A sigh, “I'm trying to release some stress.”

She felt something being pressed to her ears and suddenly all sound was muffled. Still, she asked. It was a wonder that he actually heard her.

“Why?”

His lips were pulled into a bitter smile as he raised the gun once again, this time before a different target, and yelled loud enough to be heard.

“I've been a Mafia Don for several months-”

BANG.

“-and I'm only seventeen!”

BANG.

“I had to drag all my friends into this too!”

BANG.

“I lost a very important person-”

BANG.

“-wanted to avenge her-”

BANG.

“-and almost died for it!”

BANG.

“Not to mention, I've still got Night flame residues that won't-”

BANG.

“-go-”

BANG.

“-away!”

BANG. BANG.

“I've got mountains of paperwork waiting for me every day-”

BANG.

“-and you guys always manage to make it worse!”

BANG.

“Just a few hours ago, I had to give this speech-”

BANG.

“-the most important in my life-”

BANG.

“-to convince an entire Famiglia-”

BANG.

“-that we're not Mafia anymore-”

BANG.

“-and a whole _third_ of our forces left us!”

BANG. BANG.

“Not to mention, I've got a meeting with our allies in a few days-”

BANG.

“-to convince _them_ of the same-”

BANG.

“-and hope they don't start a freaking _war_ -”

BANG.

“-because I'm invading their comfort zone!”

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“And _still_ my doctors won't-”

BANG.

“-let me-”

BANG.

“- _train_!”

BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG. BANG.

She stood there, frozen, as she took in the new target, riddled with holes. She felt the pressure on her ears go away and saw Tsuna storing everything back into their designated places, gun included.

He turned to her and sighed, “I'm sorry. I just needed to vent a bit.”

She nodded, coming out of her stupor. “I-I understand, Boss. It's not easy and you're not exactly in a comfortable position. But... why shooting?”

He laughed lightly at that, and she was inexplicably happy she could make him do that, “Well, I already told you I'm not allowed to train because I'm not supposed to do any _'straining flame-related activities'_ for another week or so and Reborn's been beating this into me ever since we came here, so I figured,” he shrugged, “why not?”

“So you use shooting as an outlet?”

“Precisely.”

She blinked and a sudden realization hit her just as they exited the room. “Ah! You said you have a meeting with our allies.”

“Ugh, don't remind me.”

She tried to muffle her giggles, but to no avail, “Are the Shimon coming too?”

“Huh? Oh, not all of them. Just Enma and Adelheid this time. Why? You wanted to see them?”

She shook her head, “Not particularly. It's just... Haru-san.”

He raised an eyebrow, “Haru?”

She nodded, suppressing another fit of giggles, “She... she's taken a liking to Enma-san.”

He blinked. Then blinked again.

“What? Since when?”

“She told she met him at the Inheritance Ceremony.”

“She- he- that-” when he thought back to it, he _had_ introduced them right before the ceremony, “Wha-”

That didn't mean he could get his head around it.

Finally calming himself, he looked back at her only to blush furiously when he saw her shaking uncontrollably with suppressed laughter.

“I-it just took me by surprise, that's all!”

She attempted to nod but almost lost control. This just helped to mortify him even more, which in turn deepened his blush.

“Jeez, Chrome, don't be like that.”

It was a while before she removed her hand from her mouth, “I'm sorry, Boss. It's just-” a giggle, “-your reaction...” she trailed off as another giggle escaped her.

He rolled his eyes good-naturedly, “Yeah, yeah, I get it. I looked stupid. No big deal.”

“No, no. It's not-”

An idea struck him. “But,” he interrupted, “I know Enma will be staying for a few days after the meeting. Why don't you go tell her _that_? See how _she_ reacts.”

She didn't know where the courage to say it came from. Maybe she had become closer to him or maybe it was this feeling of acceptance he exuded. Either way, she said it right before they parted ways.

“Petty.”

Tsuna spluttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oh, and that EnmaxHaru thing? totally wrote itself


	11. Ally or Foe

“A council?”

The elderly man nodded gravely, “Yes, Tsunayoshi. Ruling this Famiglia is already a challenge in and of itself for one man. To manage the entire alliance by yourself would be far more than just a handful.”

“So I should form a council of my most trusted allies to help me with matters related to the entire alliance?”

“Precisely. It is a tradition of sorts, but one that hasn't lost its meaning through the ages.”

“Well, I guess I could ask them at the upcoming meeting.” Tsuna said somewhat hesitantly.

Timoteo smiled, “Of course. Oh, and speaking of councils...” he paused, sighing, but an intent look from Tsuna prompted him to continue, “...my old council has urged me to relay a message.”

He tilted his head, “What kind of message?”

“They want an heir.”

Tsuna blinked. What? “An heir...?”

The ninth sighed heavily, “Tsunayoshi, you should know that, while your previous fatal condition was kept from leaking to the outside, those who needed to know were informed. Thankfully, none of these belong to the group that left after your... speech. Nevertheless, the previous council was included in this circle.

“Normally, we would wait until you were mature enough to marry and procure an heir, but normally we also have more than one temporary heir in the Boss' generation to take his place in case that he dies before fathering a child or just shortly after. This generation of the Vongola line, however, only has you. There is no one else that we could rely on should death take you early except for myself, but with my age, I am a last resort at best. That was made painfully obvious when we almost lost you to an ailment never before seen.

“That's why the former council is pushing for an heir now. I know you probably don't even want to consider it and I can see why, but I implore you to, if only to keep our line intact.”

By now Tsuna had turned beet red, “B-but I'm- I'm o-o-only sixteen!” he cried in alarm.

“Almost seventeen.”

“Still!”

Timoteo sighed again. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. “I know, Tsunayoshi, and I really don't want to push this unto you, but please at least consider it.”

The young Don tried to cool his head for a moment before answering, “I-I-I'll t-try, grandpa...” He shook his head briskly to chase away any images that were starting to form in his currently hormone-filled brain, “B-but...th-that means, if there w-were someone e-e-else with Vongola blood, I would b-be exempted from this?” he asked in morbid curiosity.

The retired Boss gave him a sad smile. “That would be the case, yes. Unfortunately, we have spent years trying to find any trace of a long lost heir and have yet to find any besides yourself.”

Tsuna's brow scrunched up in thought. “Thank you for... informing me. I'll keep your advice in mind.”

“It was my pleasure, Tsunayoshi. Good luck at the meeting.”

He cringed, “Yeah...”

“They will probably await your answer in a few weeks. Good bye.”

Tsuna reeled, fierce blush back with a vengeance. _A few weeks! What the hell?!_ He buried his head into his hands, hoping against all hope that this was all just a bad dream. Yeah, just a horrible nightmare he would wake up from soon.

Any moment now.

The little part of his mind called common sense was about to make a sarcastic remark, but decided against it. The poor boy already had enough on his plate. A moment of delusion wouldn't do much harm.

That was how Hayato found him fifteen minutes later. “Juudaime? Is everything alright?”

Large, brown eyes peeked out from beneath his fingers, which covered most of his still burning face. “Not really. I'm sort of being pressured into making the most difficult decision of my life.”

Hayato tilted his head, “Whether to send Hibari and Mukuro together on a very important mission that needs them both, but you don't know if the Vongola can pay for the inevitable collateral damage?” he guessed.

Tsuna blinked.

“...fine. The _second_ most difficult decision of my life.”

* * *

 

Sawada Tsunayoshi, having donned the mask of Vongola Decimo, swept his gaze over the room, his mind automatically putting a label to every face in his field of vision.

A young man with longish, blonde hair and very handsome features. Dino Cavallone. Cavallone Don. Previously allied. Definite ally.

A tall, bulky man with almost brown skin and curly, black hair. Osmondo Razza. Scoglio Don. Previously allied. Unknown factor.

A small, somewhat mousy man with light brown hair and light skin. Armando Buccheri. Colomba Don. Previously allied. Unknown factor.

A petite girl with deep, blue eyes and straight, greenish hair. Uni. Giglio Nero Donna. Possible ally.

Presumably a man. No features visible behind a broken mask and a long, decorated coat. True identity unknown. Goes by Edgar Kosomov, no patronymic. Giegue leader. Previously allied. Unknown factor.

A short, young redhead with equally red eyes. Kozato Enma. Shimon Don. Previously allied. Definite ally.

A tall, young man with a lithe body and wild, white hair. Byakuran Gesso. Gesso Don. Possible ally. Decision dependant on Giglio Nero.

A slender, blonde woman with a prominent scar across the cheek. Vivianne Davois. Spada Donna. Previously allied. Unknown factor.

A round, brown haired man wearing spectacles. Famiano Bovino. Bovino Don. Previously allied. Possible ally.

A underdressed, lanky boy with short, spiky hair. Naito Longchamp. Tomasso Don. Previously allied. Definite ally.

A short man with pale skin, ash blond hair and an athletic build. Cassiano Boggio. Argento Don. Previously allied. Unknown factor.

Having assured himself that he still remembered everything he was supposed to, he gave his right-hand man a subtle hand sign. Hayato noticed immediately and cleared his throat, “Everyone is accounted for and the security checks have been finished. We will now begin this meeting to reforge the Vongola alliance.” he declared clearly and with a healthy measure of authority, which made every eye in the room lock onto him.

Decimo turned back to the assembled Bosses. “Please, take a seat. In front of you are the documents for the new alliance. Take a look at them, if you would.”

Minutes passed as the arguably most powerful men and women of the underworld flipped through the pages while he summarized the different points vocally. Everything was going well until they reached a certain section of the 'treaty'.

“...and therefore these activities shall be prohibited for the members of this alliance- What the hell is this?!” exclaimed the Scoglio Boss, Razza, his voice having suddenly risen from the murmur it had been, “You may be the head of the alliance, Vongola, but you can by no means control our business! This alliance is supposed to be an aid in battle, nothing more.”

Having somewhat expected this, Tsuna took it in stride, “And that is what I'm trying to change. I know everyone here was present at my Inheritance Ceremony, so you should already know that my aim is...” he paused, searching for the right word that was not _that_ word and then giving up, “...The redemption of my Famiglia, and for that certain things must be left behind.”

Boggio frowned, “Oi, but this is too much, isn't it? With all these restrictions and rules involving civilians, it almost looks as if you're trying to become a vigilante... group...” he trailed off as his eyes met the Vongola's piercing gaze. He blinked once, twice, then burst out laughing. “Oh! Hah, I can't believe it! You're serious about this, aren't you?”

Tsuna didn't waver, “Indeed I am.”

The man got himself under control and sent an amused smirk his way, “My oh my, what am I to do? I have no idea what will come out of this. You will probably meet your downfall, but then again, you might just succeed in this fool's endeavour. I find myself more than a little curious.”

He responded with a rather bemused smile to hide the slight narrowing of his eyes. “I'm glad I could serve to your entertainment, Argento.” This man was cunning and the side he ultimately joined would most probably be the winning one. He needed to be careful around him.

Razza, who apparently didn't take well to being ignored, decided to interrupt, “Look, _ragazzo_ , this is the Mafia. The _underground_. It's called that because the things that we do are less than legal. And you think you can just waltz in here with that idealism of yours and everything will change?”

He was about to snort but the sudden drop in temperature kept him from doing so. Looking back at the boy he had addressed, he froze as an almost _glowing_ , cold, orange glare pinned him to his seat, a stark contrast to the wide, brown eyes he could have sworn had been there instead just a moment ago.

“I may be quite young, but as of right now I am the Don of an entire Famiglia, just like every single one of you. I am not a mere _boy_ , so I'd suggest you refrain from calling me that. As for my purpose, it might be idealistic, but I've been working for months to turn the ideal into reality. I know the process will be long and gruelling, but that won't stop me. Not at all.” his voice cut through the tension in the room like a hot knife to butter.

Davois skimmed the third page once again before speaking up. “Still, money doesn't grow on trees. We can't simply let go of our only sources of income.”

Decimo nodded, “Of course. That would be unreasonable. Some of these will even be left alone. But for those listed in the document, I was planning to slowly shift them to... different sources. The transition would be gradual and stable so you wouldn't be left without any income at all.”

She raised a slender eyebrow, “Surely it wouldn't go so smoothly.”

He smiled wryly, “That's what this alliance is for.”

Dino's eyes widened and he spoke for the first time since entering the room, “So you're saying it wouldn't be only combative support, but economic as well?”

“Precisely. There are other minor details, but that's the gist of it.”

Soft murmuring filled the room for a moment before all attention was drawn to Longchamp, who skipped right to the last page in the folder. Not a word was spoken as he uncapped a pen, signed the paper and placed his stamp beside the signature. Closing the folder and looking up, he directed the most serious gaze Tsuna had ever seen him don towards him and spoke in a calm voice he wouldn't have thought possible for the usually hyperactive boy.

“The Tomasso agree. I trust you, Tsuna, and I trust your judgement.” He looked back at the folder and shoved it to the middle of the table, declaring himself done with it and then holding his gaze once again. “So give me a reason to.”

Stunned as he was, he still managed an “Of course.”, earning him a normal, goofy grin from the Tomasso Boss, his serious demeanour all but gone.

Byakuran grinned at him, which left him feeling slightly creeped out. “This is a dangerous game you're playing, Tsunayoshi-kun~.”

Tsuna's expression turned the slightest bit wistful, “I have been playing this game ever since Reborn first set foot on my doorstep. I like to think I know the rules.”

The albino's grin widened. “Enough to break them, that's for sure.” He exchanged a look with Uni, who nodded, gentle smile in place. “Alright then. The Giglio Nero and the Gesso will play along.”

“We will do our utmost to support you, Tsunayoshi. I'm looking forward to the world you're trying to create.” she added, completing her signature in tandem with Byakuran.

On her other side, Enma had already closed his folder with a sheepish smile. “You already knew my answer even before I knew your plans. The Shimon will always have your back.”

Dino did the same, now uncharacteristically serious, “The Cavallone will support the Vongola, as we always have.” He looked him squarely in the eye, “Make good use of that.”

Another folder slid to the centre of the table. “The Giegue are loyal allies to the Vongola. We also agree to this alliance.”

It took a while, but finally, the Bovino Boss also agreed, if only because he didn't have much of a choice. He didn't look too pleased with it, but resignation and a bit of exasperation was also clear in his eyes.

He looked towards the remaining four Bosses, the true variables in this. Davois and Boggio seemed ambivalent. As for the other two-

“I refuse!” yelled Razza, “I will not be ordered around by an insolent, naïve boy who's about to doom his entire Famiglia to its destruction! This plan of yours has no chance of working out there in the cruel, hard world.” He stood up. “The alliance with the Vongola has been beneficial to us for generations, but I see that is not the case anymore.”

With that he left the room. He would be accompanied by his waiting second-in-command and some of the Vongola men assigned to escorting the Bosses out of the property.

Buccheri chose that moment to speak up and his voice held surprising authority, “I'm afraid I will also have to refuse. Not to be rude, but I can't see this working either. If you manage to pull it off I shall congratulate you, but I'm not willing to take the risks involved when my whole Famiglia is at stake.”

Tuna nodded, if somewhat regrettably, “I understand. You may leave as well.”

“Then I will.” he walked up to the door, but stopped right in front of it. “Still, I wish you luck.”

“Thank you.” he replied just as the door closed behind the Colomba Don.

“I will have to think this over. Something like this will impact the entire underworld and I don't know if the Spada should really be involved.” Davois frowned, but let no other sign of her discomfort at making such a decision show.

“I have to agree with the lady on this one. I'm certainly curious, but by no means stupid. Do you need an immediate answer or can I take my time observing where this all goes?” Boggio leaned back on his chair expectantly.

Honestly, Tsuna would've preferred to end this meeting with a definitive answer from everyone present, but he guessed this was better than a no. “Take your time, but please don't take too long. There's a limit to how long I can wait for a reply before crossing it off as a 'no'.”

Both blonds nodded in acknowledgement, “Of course.” answered Davois.

“We won't need too long. I just want to see if this can work.”

“I will take my leave now.”

“Me too! I'll be looking forward to it, Vongola.”

Kosomov also moved to leave, “My business here is done. Until next time, Decimo.” he was quickly followed by a grumbling Bovino.

The door closed.

Dino stood up and patted his back, “Wow, little bro. I didn't know you could act so professionally!”

Then, as if a switch had been flicked, Tsuna collapsed on his chair and rested his forehead on the cool table. “That was so nerve-wracking! Kami, was that intense. I can't even stand anymore!” he almost wailed.

Everyone else sweatdropped at the sudden change.

“It's okay, Tsuna-kun. You did really well.” Enma tried to reassure him.

“Yeah, otherwise Reborn would kill you.” Dino shuddered.

“Um, I don't think you're helping much, Signore Cavallone...” Uni tried to contain the situation.

“Right. Whoops. Oh, and don't call me signore or anything. Any friend of Tsuna's is a friend of mine, so please call me Dino.”

She smiled, “Then call me Uni. It's nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.” he replied with a grin.

“Mou, I think you two have forgotten that we have a panicky clam on our hands.” Byakuran interjected.

“Oi, Sawada-chan! I need to go. Mangusta will be mad if I take too long! I left the answer in the folder!”

“Uh-huh.” he answered distractedly, still trying to convince himself that he had done well and Reborn wouldn't kill him in his sleep.

“Um, Tsuna-kun, this may not be the best time to ask, but where am I going to stay?”

This snapped the brunet out of his dark thoughts, much to relief of most and the amusement of Byakuran. “Oh, just ask a maid or a butler and tell them who you are. They were informed beforehand.”

“Thanks! I'll go tell Adelheid.”

“Oh, and Enma?”

The redhead blinked, “Yes?”

“Haru's been waiting for you.”

A bright blush to match his hair and eyes spread over his cheeks, “I-I-I... she... it's l-like... w-we...um... yeah... bye.”

Tsuna suppressed a snicker as the door slammed shut. His attention was however diverted to Uni as she spoke up. “About the proposals that came along with the alliance documents... we accept. I'm honoured that I was considered for your council, Tsunayoshi.”

He scratched the back of his head sheepishly, “Ah, well, it was sort of an obvious decision. I trust you and you have good judgement.”

“But if I may ask... why him too?” she discreetly pointed at her white haired companion.

“Uhm, I had the feeling that he wouldn't leave me alone until I let him join too.”

She stared for a moment, then broke into a rueful grin, “Yeah, that's actually very accurate.”

“But I wonder about the others...”

“Well, you heard Signore Naito. He left his answer in the folder. I believe Kozato-san might have done the same.”

“That makes sense.” He nodded. “You know, you're surprisingly adaptive to different cultures.”

“I pride myself in that.”

Dino put in his two cents, “Oh, the council. I almost forgot. But you didn't need to ask, little bro. Of course I'd say yes!”

He chuckled, “Of course.”

“Well, the meeting went quite well. Only two people refused!” Byakuran interrupted, clapping his hands in mocking amazement and bringing him back to previous thoughts.

Oh, right. Two of them had refused to join the alliance.

_Shit._

* * *

 

_It was dark._

_Very dark._

_He couldn't see his surroundings, all he saw was his own body, clad in the white shirt, black vest and black slacks that had become standard in the last few months._

_That and an endless sea of darkness._

_This place seemed small and enclosed yet infinite at the same time. But he dared not try that theory._

_He felt frozen in place._

_Turning around to search for something, anything, to use as an anchor, he startled when he spotted the figure standing behind him._

_Male._

_He was wearing a white, pin-stripped suit with a black shirt underneath and a grey, silky tie. Draped around his shoulders was an equally white cape, held together at the front by a silver chain._

_But this wasn't what drew his attention. No, it was the soft, orange glow emanating from his one visible eye, as he was looking to the side, away from him._

_It was mesmerizing. Beautiful even._

_But that profile, it seemed familiar somehow. Very familiar. Almost as if..._

_Out of the blue, the figure's head turned towards him and suddenly he could recognize the slim build, the light, unblemished skin, the wild, brown hair, the round face and wide, sharp eyes._

_He took a sharp breath as he zeroed in on the eyes. The right eye was normal, even if the glow was more eerie than warm. But the left eye..._

_Surrounding a calmly glowing iris from all sides was an unnatural black sclera that seemed to suck all light._

_Although different – cold, unfeeling – he did recognize this person._

_Before him stood... himself._


	12. Change

_Before him stood himself._

_Orange glowing eyes. One sclera snow white, the other midnight black._

_Two familiar yet cold, identical yet mismatched eyes bored a hole into his chest._

_And he could not breathe._

* * *

 

He sat up in his bed painfully quickly, gulping in mouthfuls of air, trying to fill his lungs to the brim. Cold sweat ran down his back and his trembling hands felt oddly clammy. After a while his breathing slowed, though his heartbeat remained far more erratic than was probably healthy and he could hear he rush of blood in his ears.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

In.

Out.

Slowly, the adrenaline in his veins started fading and he finally realized that it was still quite dark. A glance at his alarm clock revealed the time to be not long past four in the morning. He desperately wanted to lie down and get back to sleep, but that dream kept him from doing so.

He sighed heavily and decided to forget it. It wouldn't do any good for him to dwell on a simple dream. Not when there were other more important things that needed his attention throughout the day. He couldn't afford to let himself be distracted.

After a few minutes he decided that he might as well get ready for the day. He headed for the bathroom, performing his routine at a slower pace than usual. He had more than enough time after all. Once cleansed and dressed though, not knowing what else to do, his feet took him outside to the balcony, where the first hints of orange already painted the sky.

He didn't know for how long he stood there, simply observing he sun slowly crawl its way up the sky, illuminating he world around him, until something, a small sound, snapped him out of his blank-minded trance.

The sound of a twig snapping.

It must have been around seven, but he couldn't for the love of Primo fathom who else would be up this early. He knew for a fact that the gardener started working mid-mornings and the maids and butlers almost never went out to the rose gardens. They said it was out of some sort of respect for privacy.

He carefully scanned the area until he found a distinctive mop of fiery red hair. Eyes widening slightly in recognition, he was about to call out when somebody else beat him to the punch.

“Enma-kun! Wait up. Jeez, first time I see you in months and the first thing you do is drag me out of bed at seven for a walk in the park?”

He smiled bashfully, “Well, technically, this is a garden not a park.” She looked at him pointedly and he sighed, “Sorry, Haru-san. I just-”

“And how many times have I told you to call me Haru- _chan_? You'd think a Mafia Boss would remember stuff like that.” this time her tone was the slightest bit playful and the corners of her lips showed her suppressed grin.

He smiled again, this time sheepishly, “A few.”

She shook her head in mock exasperation, “So what did you need to talk about without anyone around?”

His playful mood suddenly vanished, leaving a stuttering, blushing mess, “I-I... why do you think... it's not like... w-we just... you see-” he tried to deny her statement, but stopped at the raised eyebrow he received in return. Rubbing the back of his neck, he tried to organize his thoughts, “I... wanted to tell... no, I wanted... to spend some time with you, that's all.” he said, quite unsuccessfully trying to suppress the stark blush of embarrassment that adorned his cheeks.

Haru was silent for a moment, processing what he had said, before a small, soft smile slowly formed on her lips-

Tsuna closed the glass door of the balcony, then the curtains, all the while breathing heavily. He felt his lungs tighten and his heart constrict as a hand unconsciously moved towards the silver chain around his neck. What it grabbed onto, however, was a small silver circlet with an even smaller Sky coloured stone.

Dazedly, he turned towards his bedside table, cloudy eyes locking onto a familiar glass vial containing a roll of blue, stained cloth. He reached out to it, grasped it gingerly, delicately, and curled his fingers around it in an almost protective manner.

Not long after getting the rings from the girls, he had decided that he had lived in the past for long enough and replaced the vial on his chain with the _Sora_ ring. It had been hard, but he'd been convinced that he had moved on, that he had finished that chapter of his life.

Until he, feeling like and unwanted intruder, witnessed a scene he had dreamed of for years on end with two different people in mind and suddenly the hollow, empty hole in his chest had made it's presence excruciatingly obvious once again. He had not moved on, not really. And he didn't know how to go about it either.

Slowly, with some trepidation, he uncurled his fingers, leaving the vial to lie on his palm in plain view. The glass still felt cold, the stains still stood out like a sore thumb, he vial was still sealed shut.

Nothing had changed.

“What should I do?” he asked into the room, his voice the barest of whispers evaporating in the almost eerie stillness of his room. Unexpectedly, he got an answer.

“I don't know. But maybe you could start by getting your sparkly ass to your office.”

He almost jumped in fright at the sudden answer, not sure if he should be alarmed or embarrassed that he hadn't noticed any kind of change in the room. His gaze shot towards the now open door (when did that happen?) where a small, green-haired boy with a ridiculous frog shaped hat stood, looking expectantly at him. He blinked rapidly.

“Fran? What are you doing here?” then another question popped into his mind, “No, better yet, where have you been lately? I haven't seen you around at all.”

Fran gave him a blank stare, “The... Boss is waiting for you in your office.”

“Boss?”

The boy nodded, “Yeah. The pineap- uhm, I mean, shishou sent me off to that house of lunatics a few weeks ago, didn't you know?”

Tsuna frowned, “The Varia? Why would he- no, stupid question. But I gave Mukuro your ring...”

Fran lifted his hand, two rings glinting in the poor lighting of the room, “If you mean the small, useless one, pineappl- uh, shishou gave it to me on one of his... _training_ related visits.”

The brunet sent him an amused glance, “You know, he's not here. You can call him whatever you want.”

Suddenly, the young boy's demeanour turned completely serious and Tsuna reeled as he spoke in a grave tone, “The lamps have ears.”

It took a moment for Tsuna's brain to comprehend those four little words. “The... lamps?”

The illusionist nodded gravely, “The lamps.”

“Uhm, okay...?”

“So about your office...”

“Oh, right. What's Xanxus doing here this early anyways?” he asked as he stood up and walked up to him, vial left behind on the bed.

Fran shrugged, “I wouldn't know. I was just chosen as an escort because I'm the new guy and apparently everyone else has better things to do.”

“Oh.” He then remembered a certain detail of their conversation. “Fran?”

“Hm?”

“Why my 'sparkly ass' of all things?”

“Oh that. The fish man keeps yelling something like that through the entire building every day, like 'Get your fucking royal ass inside your office!' or something of the sort.”

“So why sparkly?”

Fran suddenly stopped in his tracks and turned to face him while he flailed to stop himself from colliding with the smaller boy. He seemed to observe him, as if assessing him, until something seemingly clicked in his head and realization filled his eyes. “Ah, so you're the oblivious type.”

“Obli- what do you mean?” he asked, honestly confused.

Fran just shook his head, almost as if speaking to a child, “Don't worry about it.”

* * *

 

There were flames.

In his office.

Heading directly towards the stacks upon stacks of paperwork on his desk.

Tsuna didn't think about what he was about to do, he just _moved_. Placing his hands in a specific position, we was suddenly before of the flames, absorbing them into himself, converting them to his own. The moment that was over, he quickly scanned the room for the attacker-

Oh.

“Xanxus, please refrain from burning my paperwork. As much as I loathe it, it still needs to be done.”

“I was bored, trash.”

“Still.”

Xanxus stared at him for a moment before sitting down on the borderline throne-like chair Tsuna was pretty sure had not been there before. “You do realize Vogola paperwork doesn't burn, right?”

He stared right back, “What.”

Xanxus sighed irritatedly, “It's fireproof. Been so since Secondo's reign.”

“But... how'd they manage that such a long time ago?”

The other man gave him an unimpressed look, “This is the Vongola we're talking about, scum.”

Tsuna blinked a few times, “Right, of course. How could I forget? ...how do you even know this? I thought you avoided your paperwork at every available chance.”

He snorted, “I do. But the shark trash will go to ridiculous lengths to keep me from escaping the damned office.”

Tsuna shook his head exasperatedly, “So, what brings you here?”

The man scowled, throwing a stained folder onto his desk, “This. What in fucking hell is this?”

The teen seemed surprised as he replied, “Well, that was quick.” His scowl darkened and Tsuna sighed. “You know perfectly well what that is.”

“You little piece of-”

“So you disagree?”

“Of course I do! We are Mafia, not a bunch of fucking bed wetting pansies! What about the rest of the Vongola? What about the Varia!”

Tsuna calmly observed him, “Is that what you're really worried about? The Varia?”

This seemed to give him some pause, “I-”

“The Varia will stay.”

Xanxus glared at him with surprisingly suppressed ire, “Not for long, the way you're leading this Famiglia.”

“Xanxus, by the time the removal of the Varia will even be considered, both we and our children will be long dead. I don't think you should be worrying about that right now.”

“I don't worry. I just don't want to lose my job. It'd be a pain to look for a new one”

Tsuna remained silent.

“But nobody outside of your little group of peace and rainbows and all that shit would agree with these policies. How do you expect to get new recruits?” he asked, reluctantly letting go of the previous subject.

The young Don smiled his usual soft smile, almost making him retch, though he did detect a hint of mischievousness in the upturned corners of his mouth, “We've already got that figured out.”

* * *

 

Takeshi stood in an alley, sword in hand, facing the newest batch of possible recruits. There were around fifteen men, all of them impatient to get this last ordeal over with before they attained full Vongola membership. Even more so knowing that their target was a mere fifty meters away.

The mission: Enter the warehouse. Trash the place. Free the captive girls. Send the thugs off to the nearest police station.

“And remember, no killing or maiming unless your life depends on it.” he finished his short lecture and was about to turn around to lead them inside when someone spoke up.

“Uhm, just out of curiosity, why are we doing all this, even going as far as presenting the police with all these guys after we finish them off? Couldn't we just, I don't know, take the warehouse and interrogate them ourselves or something...?” he trailed off uncertainly.

Takeshi gave him a razor sharp grin that didn't reassure him in the least, “That's a... valid question, I guess. Simply put, we're doing this to confuse the authorities.”

* * *

 

“Confuse the police?”

Tsuna nodded, “It's more of a facade for new recruits to unconsciously get used to the fact that they'll be working for a vigilate group. Though, in a way, it's also true.”

Xanxus stared darkly at him, “In what way?”

“It'll put them off, throw them off-balance, keep them on their toes. We'll keep giving them mixed signals to keep them searching for false leads or doubting the ones they already have.”

The older man raised an eyebrow, “And how, exactly, is this in any way useful?”

“The sudden change in the strongest Famiglia of Italy is bound to cause an uproar in the underworld and attract attention. They'll see the signs eventually, but I can't have them interfere if a fight does break out. They'd be wiped out in an all-out war and I don't want to involve any innocents, regardless of their choice of work. Thus, my solution is to keep them cautious, keep them thinking that making a move is too risky and that they should wait for another chance, keep that chance away from their reach.”

“In short, keep them out of it.”

“Precisely.”

Xanxus stared at him for a moment longer and when he spoke, his voice was devoid of any sarcasm or even a mocking undertone, “You are the craftiest little shit I have ever met.”

* * *

 

Knocking another thug unconscious, Takeshi turned to look at the rest of the group, see how they were doing. Numerous bodies littered the floor, though interestingly enough, he noted contentedly, there was almost no blood to be seen. This group was strong, that was for sure, and they knew to obey orders, which just made this all the better.

A glint of metal caught his eye and his insides froze.

One of the men whose name he couldn't quite remember, was in a corner, sitting atop his still conscious opponent, a wicked looking knife held high and ready to plunge into the terrified man's eye.

The worst part was the equally wicked and twisted grin plastered across his face, eyes radiating insanity.

The hand started falling.

The knife sliced the air.

* * *

 

“But you can't expect everyone to simply accept it. There will be a lot of people against it, especially within the lowest ranks, where the newest recruits always start off.”

All he got was a raised eyebrow in response, “So?”

“ _So_ ,” he felt his eyebrow twitch in irritation, “what are you going to do about them?”

This time, the smile Tsuna sent his way was downright evil.

* * *

 

The hand had been falling.

The knife had sliced the air.

So why did he suddenly have his back to the wall with something cold and thin pressed to his throat?

“What was that about?” asked a cold, steely voice, cutting through the silence in the room like a blade. Locating the source, he inwardly yelped when he found it to be right before his eyes.

It was the team leader, the guy who was sent to recruit them. His startled expression morphed into a derisive sneer. “They are enemies. There's nothing to stop me if I want to have a little fun with them, is there?”

Icy, hazel eyes narrowed dangerously, “There were _orders_ stopping you.”

The sneer then turned into an outraged scowl, “Who do you even think you are, threatening me like that? Is that how you treat your new recruits?”

Suddenly, he was made aware once again of the sharp pressure on his throat as it momentarily increased, drawing a pearl of blood that slid down his neck and onto his collarbone.

“ _I_ am the Vongola's Rain Guardian, third-in-command of the Famiglia and _I_ completely outmatch in every single way, so don't even think of using that knife you're reaching for.”

His eyes widened. Rain Guardian! Was this guy serious? No, it couldn't be. They would never send such a high-

“Good night.”

And everything went dark.

* * *

 

“People disappear all the time in our world. It wouldn't attract any attention if one or two men were to vanish from the face of earth, leaving no traces of their existence.”

“Just for refusing your way of doing things?”

“Those are the exact same people who will turn out to be moles later on. The ones who disagree. Even as mere possible recruits, they're already privy to some information I would rather keep away from some people.”

Xanxus was silent for a moment, processing the conversation. Against all odds, his voice was calm when he finally spoke.

“You've changed.”

He was rewarded with a small, somewhat bitter smirk, “Wouldn't have made it otherwise.”

Another silence stretched between them, broken only minutes later. “Are you really okay with this?”

Almost imperceptibly, bitterness turned to deep, heart-breaking sadness.

“I never will be.”

* * *

 

In the end, Xanxus had accepted and his council now included the leader of the Varia. Now the only one missing was the head of CEDEF and it would be complete.

As Xanxus exited the office, his mood notably calmer from when he had entered, earning him a confused yet somewhat relieved glance from Fran, who'd been waiting outside by the doors, Tsuna couldn't help but notice the small, almost invisible glint of silver and orange on the man's right hand.

Somehow, the small spark of warmth that appeared inside his chest compelled him to say something before the doors closed. “Thank you, Xanxus.”

He stopped, “For what?”

“For understanding.”

“Don't take me wrong, scum. This doesn't mean I agree with you. I still think the old man shouldn't have had you of all people succeed him. But I'll work with you, if only to make both our lives easier.”

His smile felt truer than it had in weeks, “Of course.”

Xanxus sighed and walked out, but not before getting in some last few words, “I'm gonna go get drunk. Don't yoe dare bother me for the next week, trash.”

Even though he was already gone, Tsuna still nodded.

* * *

 

_Again._

_He stood there again._

_Same empty black space. Same utter nothingness._

_Same doppelgänger dressed in blinding white._

_How many times had it been?_

_It was always like this. They stood facing each other, not moving a muscle, not saying a word. Just staring._

_He dared not move._

_He dared not speak._

_He dared not break the spell._

_But... but what was even happening? Why did he keep having this dream? Why was he still here?_

_He needed to do something, to escape, to change, to act._

_Summoning up his courage, moving his tongue of lead, and after numerous failed attempts, he finally spoke._

“ _Who...” No, stupid question. The real question was “...what... what are you?”_

_There was no change, no shift. His counterpart just kept staring right at him, stabbing him, drilling through him with only his eerie, dreadful, ominous, mismatched gaze._

_He was about to give up on an answer when it came._

_A voice, cold, emotionless, scratchy, yet it somehow echoed in an infinite space of nothingness._

“ _You don't know...”_

_There was silence for a long moment._

“ _You don't know... what I am?”_

_Hesitantly, almost fearful of the outcome, he shook his head._

“ _You don't know...”_

_Nothing happened. Then everything happened._

_Completely unannounced, the other him stood right in front of him, their faces mere inches away. Before he could react, before he could even think of reacting, he felt a cold, dead, powerful, warm pressure around his throat._

“ _Then... you should find out soon.”_

_And suddenly he was on his back, the other's weight pressing down on him as the pressure on is throat intensified and he felt pain and no air reached him anymore._

“ _Or I will **destroy you**.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> welp, this is getting dark. also, again: that pairing wrote itself


	13. Veiled in Power

“Tsuna-nii, are you alright?”

The sudden shattering of the precious silence of his office jolted him out of his almost-nap, head springing away from the hand that had been supporting it. Quickly orienting himself, he found three pairs of eyes worriedly observing him.

“Ah, it's just you three. I'm fine, just a little tired.” The concern in their eyes receded, but something else remained, clear in their shifting gaze and nervous fidgeting. “Is... something the matter?”

They all jolted at once, ridiculously synchronizing in their nervousness. Fuuta decided to speak up, “Well, you see, Tsuna-nii. We made a new friend the other day.”

He smiled, “Really? That's great.”

The boy nodded, seemingly spurred on by his reaction, “Yeah, but he doesn't have a home so we thought maybe he could live here. He's right here too, so you can meet him now.”

Tsuna pulled up short, but before he could reply, the three children separated, breaking up the obstacle he didn't know he had and giving him full view of their white, dirty, furry friend.

It was a dog.

“His name's Blacky!” said I-pin excitedly.

“... why Blacky?”

Lambo shrugged, “It sounded cool. So can we keep him?”

Tsuna sighed, trying to organize his thoughts, “Kids, this... Blacky's a stray dog, isn't he?” Fuuta nodded carefully, as if afraid of the repercussions. “Stray dogs often have diseases or fleas or even rabies sometimes. You don't pick up stray dogs because it could be bad for your health.”

“But Blacky's alright. He's not sick or anything!”

“Still, he probably has fleas. And having a pet is a big responsibility. A responsibility I'm not sure you're ready for yet.”

“But- _Please!_ ” pleaded I-pin.

Tsuna shook his head. “No. If you want a pet I can take you to the pet shop one of these days.”

“But he's our friend!”

“Fuuta, Lambo, I-pin.” the three children froze at his stern tone, “My answer is final. You are not keeping that dog as a pet.”

“But-!”

“Lambo.” he said warningly.

“...”

Tsuna chanced a look at their dejected faces and almost gave in, but he held himself back. “Please take him back outside.”

“You meany!” the Lightning then ran out, dog in arms, quickly followed by the two other equally disappointed children.

The brunet, now alone in his office, sighed heavily and leaned back on his seat, slouching in exhaustion. First he couldn't sleep because of a bad dream that just wouldn't go away and now the kids – his little brothers and sister – didn't like him anymore because he'd denied them a dog.

Sometimes he felt like a parent.

And not just because of the children of the mansion.

At that moment, one of his men entered the office, panting slightly, “Decimo! There's someone waiting for you at the entrance hall. He says you know him.”

Tsuna looked up at this. He hadn't been expecting any guests today. With some trepidation, he asked,

“Did he say his name?”

“He called himself Lancia, sir.”

Tsuna almost fell out of his chair.

* * *

 

Five minutes later, he found himself in the entrance hall, accompanied by Reborn, who had somehow gotten wind of their unexpected guest and tagged along midway through his trek towards said hall.  
Standing in the middle of the room was Lancia, not a day older than the last time they had seen each other.

“Lancia!” he greeted, an impossibly large grin stretching across his face.

The man turned to look at him and a brief hint of astonishment flashed through his eyes before he was back to his normal, collected self, a small smile on his lips. “Reborn, Decimo.” he bowed slightly, but Tsuna was having none of it, holding his shoulder to prevent it from lowering further.

“I haven't seen you in so long. You haven't changed at all! You don't carry that huge ball around anymore? Have you been doing well? You should eat more, you look like you haven't had a proper meal in weeks!” he fired off comment after question after comment while he fussed over the man, not giving him any time to reply. Reborn just watched the show with an air of exasperation.

Finally, he grasped at a small pause and interjected, “I see you have grown quite a bit, Decimo.”

“Oh, don't call me Decimo. It makes me feel busy. Call me Tsuna.”

“Are you sure?”

“Of course!”

He nodded, “As for the reason I came here, I wish to keep my promise to you and become your ally. There's trouble arising that you might need all the help you can get for.”

“...maybe we should sit down for this?”

“Yes, but not right now. There's still someone else coming. He was with me, but we got separated. I'm afraid he won't be let in if I'm not here to vouch for him.”

Tsuna frowned, “Just who is-”

“What are you doing here, lackey?” interrupted a dark, squeaky voice, though it was directed at neither of them. “The Carcassa aren't welcome within Vongola territory.”

Tsuna turned around, not quite believing his ears. There, barely standing near the door, with ten battered looking Vongola men pointing their assorted weaponry at him and Reborn sending him a condescending glare, was Skull.

Beaten, bruised and exhausted.

“Stand back.” he raised his hand to keep the men from shooting, looking at the ex-Arcobaleno in both wariness and curiosity, “It takes a lot of skill to even get to the front door of this mansion.” he acknowledged, then looked back at Lancia, “Is he the one you were talking about?” The man nodded grimly and he signaled the men to leave, quickly whispering to one of them to bring a healer.

“Skull.” he motioned for the stuntman to follow him into the next room, which he gladly did. During the short walk, however, Tsuna noticed the way he favoured his left side and the blood still seeping out of poorly bound bandages. The strain was clear on his face too, for once uncovered, and he wondered what had happened to his trademark helmet.

When they reached the room, Skull quickly limped towards he nearest sofa and let himself fall. He winced for a moment, but seemed to ignore the pain in favour of looking at them. Reborn, who seemed mildly disturbed, something Tsuna almost didn't notice, frowned at the Cloud. “You're getting awfully comfortable in enemy territory, lackey.”

A sudden, pained laugh escaped the small formerly cursed man, which he seemed to regret immediately after judging by his pronounced wince, “I don't think I'm the enemy anymore, Reborn.” His voice was faint and strained, lacking energy in a way Tsuna had never heard coming from him. Lancia took this moment to start talking.

“There's a disturbance in the north. I don't know much about it, but it was clear while I was there. Several Famiglie are concentrating there, but I couldn't find out why. Many of them are open enemies of the Vongola while some of them are well-known neutral parties. I don't really know what exactly's going on, but he,” he pointed at Skull, “he does.”

They turned to look at him just as he finished struggling to sit up. “I know because the Carcassa's part of it too. It's an alliance, a huge one, all centered around one big group. Just like yours in a way.” he hissed and winced, at which point a middle aged woman entered the room and made a beeline for him. He tried to shy away from her, but she grabbed him firmly and began examining him with a yellow flaming hand. Any and all protests vanished when the pain suddenly numbed.

“But why are you here?” Tsuna asked after the not-quite-infant relaxed a bit, “Why come to tell us? And why are you so injured? That didn't come from my men. The wounds are older than that.” At the pointed look towards the healer, the brunet clarified, “She won't say a thing.”

Skull turned to look directly at him, and the grim determination in his gaze was unlike anything he had ever seen, “I owe you, Tsuna. You and the Vongola, I owe. You freed me and the other Arcobaleno from the curse and that is a debt I can't repay. I decided you needed to know this, so I left the Carcassa to come here and tell you before something bad does happen.”

Reborn frowned, “Idiot! You can't just leave a Famiglia like that.”

He replied with another strained laugh, “That's why I look like this! I've been on the run ever since! And...” all of sudden, both the seriousness and the bravado were gone, leaving only a frightened, nervous boy, “...I know I shouldn't be asking because I already owe you so much, but... I ask for protection.”

“Protection?”

He nodded, “From the alliance. I want to join your side.” he said almost hesitantly, but with enough of his trademark confidence.

“You-”

“We'll grant it.” all three of them looked at Tsuna wide-eyed, surprised at how easily he had said that, “We'll grant it.” he repeated in the same calm voice.

“R-really?” he asked in a broken voice, desperate hope shining brightly in his eyes.

Tsuna nodded and smiled kindly at him, “You're already part of the family, in a way. So yes, really.”

The touching moment was interrupted by the loud growling of Skull's stomach. He flushed in embarrassment, “I-I'm not hungry o-or anything, j-just my bel-lly declaring i-it's p-prescence, is all.”

Tsuna suppressed a chuckle as he offered the Cloud a very quick trip through the kitchen after he could walk halfway properly to get to the hospital wing, which was met with enthusiastic agreement.

“But before that, one more thing.” Skull urged him on, “You mentioned that alliance was centered around one big Famiglia. Do you have a name?”

For a moment, the shortest of seconds, Tsuna could have sworn he had seen a dark, deep fear in his eyes, almost approaching insanity. When Skull spoke, it was with a dry, raspy voice.

“The Scoglio.”

* * *

 

_He lied there, his back pressed to the non solid ground of this infinite darkness._

_He could still feel the pressure around his neck, but there was nothing there to give it._

_He lied there for a while, breath hitching, fearing unspeakable things if he was just the slightest bit too loud._

_He didn't know how long it took to summon up the will – there was no sense of time here – but before it all vanished, slipped through his fingers like his sanity, like sand, he sat up._

_The other one was still there, in all his white clad glory._

_He stood there._

_And stared._

_And waited._

_Those eyes, those nightmarish eyes, could see every move he made, every breath he took._

_And it froze his soul in fear._

“ _You need me.”_

_Yet again, that grating, silky voice echoed throughout the nothingness, making the entire situation even more surreal._

_There was silence for a moment, a stillness so loud he could not bear it, but he dreaded the voice even more._

“ _You can't divide me.”_

_The other didn't move at all, not once, but it seemed as if he was getting closer with every syllable spoken._

“ _You can't deny me.”_

_Ever closer he came, even though he had not moved a muscle, and he didn't know what to do, how to act._

“ _You are **powerless** without me.”_

_Those eyes, that gaze, it bored through him, a hole, a gigantic black hole. He looked down at his chest._

_A hole._

_A gigantic hole._

_Bleeding black and dark._

_He coughed once, raising his hand to cover his mouth. He looked at it with detached horror._

“ _You **need me**.”_

_It was splattered with midnight blood._

* * *

 

“Wake up!”

He bolted up, a jarring scream tearing its way out of his throat. Before he even noticed what he was doing, a hand grasped at his chest in desperation, as if searching for something. Finally, he noticed he wasn't  _ in there _ anymore and sagged in relief, falling back onto his bed. It was only then that he noticed there was another person in the room.

“J-juudaime...”

“Gokudera-kun... what...”

“I-I came here to get you, but you wouldn't answer the door so I was worried and came in and you seemed to be having a nightmare and I tried to wake you up but you just wouldn't wake up and-”

“Gokudera-kun.”

“Yes?”

“It's alright, you did nothing wrong.” tiredly, he ran a hand down his face, trying to wake himself some more. “What did you come to get me for? It's barely seven.”

The air around the Storm shifted in a way Tsuna had started to relate to his friend/right-hand-man switch. “He's here.”

The brunet tilted his head, still trying to rid his mind of metaphorical cobwebs, “Who is?”

“Cassiano Boggio.”

“Cassiano... Boggio?” something about the name seemed familiar, but he couldn't quite grasp what.

“Argento, Juudaime! Argento is here! He said he has both replies too.”

“Wh-what? He's here? With both replies? And he didn't send a representative?”

Hayato shook his head, “No, he came with only two guards.”

“... wait outside for a minute, Gokudera-kun. I'll get ready as quickly as I can.”

“Of course, Juudaime.”

* * *

 

The huge, thick oak doors of the Boss' office were locked for once.

With four ears pressed to it.

“Can you hear anything?”

“No. Now shut up.” Hayato shushed him.

The two Mists remained silent, trying to strain their sense of hearing as much as possible, the double doors being too thick to properly eavesdrop on the conversation going on inside. Not that there was anything being said right now – the room was deathly still. Chrome silently – and somewhat guiltily – thanked Kami that both the Lightning and the Sun Guardians weren't here to make a  ruckus , the latter being out on a mission with the Cloud. Why their Boss had thought that was good idea was anyone's guess.

She was startled out of their musings by a voice, much too loud to be silenced by a simple door.

“No! I don't approve of this!”

Also raised, but not quite as much, came a second voice, “No one asked for your opinion, really.”

“Argento-”

“This is my choice. Not much you can do about it.”

“But-!”

The interrupting reply came almost too quiet to be heard. “Vongola,  _ please _ . You can't just decide everything on your own.”

“I...” a long moment of tense silence, “...do you really want to do this?”

They couldn't hear the answer, but guessed it was an affirmative.

“...very well. Do this at your own risk.”

“Don't tell anyone.”

“I can't just-”

“Don't tell _anyone_ , Vongola. I'm warning you.”

They heard something faint, probably a sigh. “Just... go.”

“Of course. I'll send your greetings to Razza.”

A huffed half hearted laugh. “Do what you want.”

At that moment, all four Guardians scrambled out of the way, panic making way to relief as they were blanketed in the familiar, disorienting feeling of an illusion. And not a second too soon as the doors opened and a blond man stepped out, looking around. The moment his gaze flew over them he seemed to smirk, but it was gone before anyone could make sure.

With that, he walked down the hall and turned left, where his anxious guards were waiting for him. A moment passed in which they held their breath, muscles tense. Then the illusion came apart and all four of them stumbled into the office.

“How did it go?”

“Are they in?”

“What did he say?”

“Is that the contract?”

Tsuna just sat there, one hand harshly grasping his hair, the other one fisted, knuckles white, on top of a previously folded document. He took a shuddering breath to compose himself and looked up, eyes brimming with exhaustion and, most of all, frustration.

“Due to their previous allegiance to us, the Spada were pressured by the Scoglio that stepped out of our alliance to choose a side. In the end, they decided to join us, albeit reluctantly, mostly because they know for sure that the Vongola won't stab them in the back. The Spada are now part of the Vongola alliance.”

“And Cassiano Boggio brought the confirmation instead of Vivianne Davois?” asked Mukuro, confusion clear on his face for once.

He nodded tiredly, “Yeah. Apparently they've been friends for a while.”

Takeshi tried to take a peek at the document, which Tsuna folded and placed inside a drawer. Sighing at his imminent failure, he asked the question before anyone else could, “So the Argento...?”

At this, Tsuna's expression turned pained and just the slightest bit regretful, “Today, the Argento Don officially declared that they will be joining the Scoglio. He came to... say his farewells.”

“But... but that makes no sense! Why would he-?” Hayato sputtered.

“It doesn't matter. He's decided, there is no changing that fact.” Tsuna's voice adopted a dark, almost ominous tone.

There was silence for a while, tense and uncomfortable, until Takeshi had enough and reached out to grasp his shoulder tightly, “It'll work out, Tsuna. Somehow, it'll work out.”

Their Sky looked at each of them, gratitude shining in his amber eyes from underneath all the tired resignedness. “I hope so, Yamamoto.”

_ I hope so _ .


	14. Home is Where the Heart Lies

“ _You shouldn't be running around like that, Chrome. You were just released from the hospital after all.”_

“ _But I feel fine, Boss, really.”_

“ _Just... be careful, alright?”_

“ _Of course. You too, have a safe trip.”_

“ _Thanks, I will.”_

“ _...Boss?”_

“ _Yeah?”_

“ _I... I, um... I just... uh, I'll miss you, that's all.”_

“ _I'll miss you too.”_

* * *

 

Tsuna opened his eyes when he felt an elbow nudge him in the ribs. Raising his head, he met Kyouya's irritated gaze. “Ah... I almost dozed off again, didn't I?”

“While standing up.”

An embarrassed blush crept up his face, “Ugh, I have to stop doing that.”

“Then get some actual sleep, omnivore.”

He waved a hand dismissively, “I will, I will. Just having problems with a bad dream. It'll go away eventually.”

“Hn.”

“Well, what else do you want me to- oh, the car's here.” And by car, he meant limousine. Why anybody thought that driving around a small, japanese town with a limousine was a good idea he didn't know. They climbed in and waited for their luggage to be brought out of the jet and loaded in the back.

“Hello, tuna fish.”

He blinked and faced away from the window and towards the front seat, where a big, blond man sat, perfectly comfortable. “Dad? Oh, dad.”

“Is that how you greet your father after years of not seeing him? I'm wounded!”

“...it's been three, four months, dad.”

“Really?” he looked honestly flabbergasted and Tsuna couldn't help but sigh, even as he felt the vehicle come to life and start moving forward.

“Yes.” he chanced a look at Kyouya, who was staring out the window with a dangerously homicidal aura. “Kyouya-san?” Said man turned to look at him, which he took as a sign to continue. “While he's officially retired, my father will be helping out as you establish the Foundation. He'll give you some advice should you ever need it until you're experienced enough to lead the entire organization on your own. Kusakabe-san will be informed of his presence too.”

Kyouya didn't seem pleased but nodded anyway, knowing perfectly well that, while he did have some experience with the Disciplinary Committee in middle school, it was not nearly to enough to successfully lead a whole new foreign branch of the Famiglia. Still that didn't mean he had to like it. He could already tell the man would be insufferable at best.

Said man for his part offered out a hand, knowing (teasing) grin in place, “I'll be looking forward to working with the famed Cloud Guardian of the Tenth. I've heard a lot of things about you.”

“Of course. You're the one who recruited me, albeit indirectly.” Trying to get this over with quickly, he took the hand and shook it firmly, if a bit stiffly, “Yoroshiku onegai shimasu.”

Tsuna watched the exchange in thinly veiled astonishment. This was probably the first time his indomitable Cloud had  _ verbally _ agreed to working together with anyone. This was a moment that would burn itself into his memory, that was for sure.

Apparently pleased with their agreement, Iemitsu turned back to his son. “So tell me, how have things been? How's Nono doing?”

The brunet sighed heavily, “Things have been... tense. A former ally has been gathering forces lately, many of them hostile enemies of Vongola. We weren't quite sure why at first, but just the day before yesterday we found out that we were apparently purposefully misinformed. A week or two ago, Yamamoto took out some possible recruits to raid a warehouse we'd been told belonged to a small, but quite feisty group. However, it actually belonged to the Scoglio. Razza has a short temper, it might have been seen as enough of a provocation for him to start preparing for war. That's why the trip here had to be delayed. Honestly, I still feel uneasy about leaving.”

The blond man frowned deeply, “What about the source.”

He shook his head, “We haven't been able to find neither hide nor hair of the supposed informant. It's as if he's completely disappeared, as if he never existed in the first place.”

“Scoglio were always good at that. Maa, but this is too grim. You should relax while you're at home. And you still haven't told me about Nono.” he said with a teasing grin.

He was rewarded with a small smile that seemed to lit up the teen's face, “I sent grandpa and his Guardians off to Spain.”

“Spain?” he asked in confusion.

“Yep. I can run the Famiglia on my own and my Guardians have adapted perfectly to their roles by now so I figured I'd give them a well deserved vacation.”

“Meh, I couldn't do that. My motto is to never refuse help with my paperwork.”

“Not that you need to worry about that anymore.” Tsuna smiled wryly.

The man slumped, “Ugh, don't start. Lal already chewed off my head for 'dumping all my damned paperwork on her'. You should have seen her! I swear, other than Nana, all women are scary.”

Tsuna chuckled, “That's what you get for going into retirement.”

Iemitsu stared at him in disbelief, “You  _ made _ me retire!”

Tsuna made sure to don the most innocent face he could manage, which was admittedly quite impressive, “Who, me?”

The blond just stared, wide eyed, mouth opening and closing, absently reminding him of a fish. He could help the light laugh that escaped him. Before Iemitsu could manage a retort, however, they felt the vehicle stop. He turned back to his right, hand raised in farewell, “See you tomorrow, Kyouya...” towards an empty seat. “...san.”

Through the window he could see his Guardian, suitcase in hand, already heading towards his front door and pulling out a ring of keys. He couldn't fathom how he had managed that in such a short amount of time, but one simply did not question Hibari Kyouya, so he told he chauffeur to take them home.

The rest of the trip went by in silence. He stared out the window, mulling over his visit to Namimori and the hug risk involved in establishing the Foundation. Of course it would be helpful, what with it being the new asian pseudo-branch of the Famiglia, although focused mostly on information gathering and, of course, protecting Namimori. This town would probably be the most peaceful Mafia-infested place in the whole world by the five-year mark.

Still, apart from being costly, the beginning members would almost all be  underage , with the exception of the former Momokyokai members, who had long submitted to the might of Hibari Kyouya. It was risky, but he believed Kyouya would keep them in line – or beat them into submission if it came down to it.

He hoped it didn't.

Finally, the car stopped once again, this time in front of a very familiar house. Warmth spread through him at the mere sight of the place and it threatened to explode the moment the door opened, revealing his one and only mother.

Hurriedly, clumsily, he opened the door and jumped out of the limousine, almost running towards her and engulfing the woman in a tight embrace, which managed to get a yelp out of her before she wrapped her arms around him as well.

“Okaerinasai, Tsu-kun.”

“Tadaima, kaa-san.”

“Group hug!” before either of them could react, they were both engulfed in a pair of big, strong arms.

“D-dad!”

She giggled, “Iemitsu, dear, we're going to fall down like this.”

“Mou, you just don't want me in your mother-son moment.”

“That too.”

He let them go abruptly, “Oh, the pain! It hurts so much!”

She giggled again, unsuccessfully trying to muffle it with her hand. Tsuna couldn't help but admire the sight. When was the last time she had looked so happy? A while ago, long before the whole Mafia business entered their lives. He smiled at her, wholeheartedly happy for her.

“My, Tsu-kun! You sure have grown! How much taller have you gotten since the last time I saw you?”

He blinked, “I've gotten taller?”

Nana swatted his arm, “Of course you have, you inattentive boy! And you're voice! Its a lot deeper now...” she trailed off for a moment. Tsuna looked at her, really looked, and realized that he was indeed looking  _ down _ instead of  _ up _ . It was a fascinating discovery. She raised an eyebrow at his startled expression, “Don't tell me you really hadn't noticed the height.”

He laughed nervously, scratching the back of his head, “Ah, well, things have been busy and all...”

She shook her head exasperatedly, but the amused smile remained on her face, “My, I really have a no-good son.” she said jokingly, earning a fond smile from her son.

Minutes later, they finally found themselves sitting in the living room, suitcase in the corner. “So how long will you be staying?”

His smile lessened, “For about a week, maybe more if things stay peaceful. I'm sorry, I'd love to stay longer but-”

“Tsu-kun, really, don't worry about it. I'm not alone anymore, I have Iemitsu dear with me, right?” said man looked away guiltily, cheeks turning light pink, “But if you ever need a break or just to get away for a while, our door will always be open.”

He sighed, “Thanks, kaa-san.”

She smiled kindly, then her eyes widened and she jumped away from the sofa, running out of the room, “Kaa-san?!” Tsuna and Iemitsu were already halfway out of their seats when her head poked through the doorway, “Don't get up! It's just dinner. I forgot I need to finish dinner! You came earlier than I thought.” with that, she disappeared again, leaving the two men alone to share amused glances and exasperated grins.

* * *

 

In the south of Italy, there was an old, almost ancient mansion with a beautiful garden. Sitting on a wooden bench in the middle of said garden, illuminated by the unhindered silver rays of moonlight, were two people: a man and a woman. For a long while they sat in silence, enjoying each other's company. But just like everything else in this world that took away and gave nothing back, the silence came to an end.

The woman was the one to break it, still looking at the full moon, “Why?”

“Why what?”

Her eyebrows came together slightly, but she brushed it off, “You know.”

“Maybe I don't.”

“Cassiano, this is no time for joking.”

He huffed a humourless laugh, “Indeed it isn't.”

“Why did do that, make that deal?”

“I have my reasons.”

“I don't even need to know those reasons to think they're stupid.”

“Think what you will, but they aren't.”

“Really? Then why?”

A pause, “Because... I think I agree with him.”

“Enough to risk your life like this?”

“No, I enjoy taking enormous risks. Good for the stress and all.” he half smirked.

She scoffed, “Don't start with the sarcasm, you twat.”

“I'm hurt! I thought you liked the sarcasm.”

“Not now, I don't.”

“You're no fun.”

“And you're mental. Guess we're even.”

“Vivianne...”

“I mean, risking your life for him like this.”

“Vivianne...”

“You don't even really know him, Cassiano! You-”

“ _ Vivi. _ ”

She stopped, barely keeping herself from gasping at the old nickname. She had not heard him call her that since their teenage years, when they had had to give up on childish delusions and step up as the heirs of their respective Famiglie.

He looked at her this time, squarely in the eyes, “This is my decision.”

“You... you might die.”

“I know.”

“You might be tortured for information.”

“I know.”

“Do you really?”

“Yes, Vivianne. I'm quite aware of that.”

“And you still want to this?”

“I don't have a single doubt.”

“...why?”

“Because, maybe then I'll have done something right.”

A tear ran down her cheek.

“ _When we grow up, let's get married!”_

“ _Vivi, I... I think I like you. As in_ like _ like you.” _

“ _I won't let go. Ever.”_

“ _No! This can't be happening. Just because we're not from the same group-”_

“ _I'm sorry, Vivi. I know I promised, but... I'm sorry... Goodbye, Vivianne.”_

He stood up.

“Don't go...”

He caressed her cheek, tracing the prominent scar with his fingertips, “We'll be enemies from now on.”

“You bastard...”

He continued undisturbed, “So don't cry. It's unbecoming of a Donna. Be strong, like you always have. Stronger than me, stronger than anyone. For your family.”

“I'm not crying...”

He smiled, and she saw the sorrow reflected in his eyes. As he turned around, his voice remained passive, “This might be the last time we see each other.”

She glared at him, though it lacked any heat, “Now you're just jinxing yourself.”

He chuckled, “Probably. I'm one for dramatics after all.” she snorted, “Goodbye, Vivianne.”

“See you later, Cassiano.”

He chuckled again as he walked away and his last whisper was carried by the wind.

“I'm sorry.”

* * *

 

In the busy shopping street of Namimori, Tsuna and Kyouya walked side by side. They were going to Kusakabe Tetsuya's house, having been informed that he was in possession of the necessary documents to begin operations but was currently out of town due to an urgent private matter. Apparently, Kyouya had a key to his apartment for whatever reason, which meant that this wouldn't be much of a problem. They'd just have to go there to pick them up.

As they walked in comfortable silence, a familiar voice stopped them (or more like it made Tsuna stop which made Kyouya stop). “Dame-Tsuna?”

Startled, not expecting that loathsome nickname after pretty much a whole year of being addressed with respect and reverence, he turned around and came face to face with his former upperclassman, Mochida Kensuke.

“Mochida-senpai...?”

He grinned in that arrogant way seemed more out of habit than actual pride, “So it  _ is _ you! Wow, you look different. I almost didn't recognize you there! Say, there are a lot of rumours going on about you! You and your whole clique disappeared for a while there. Some say you've dropped out of school and run away, which really wouldn't surprise me.”

Kyouya growled, at which point Mochida finally noticed Tsuna's companion, “H-hibari-san! You- you're back?” he said, voice laced with panic.

The brunet held out a hand in front of the skylark, “Kyouya-san, please don't. We don't want to make a scene out in the public, especially not this early on.” he pleaded. He looked at him for a second before reluctantly backing down. All the while Mochida watched the spectacle in unobstructed awe. “Why don't you go pick up the documents while I deal with this?”

Kyouya glared at him and Mochida flinched out of sympathy, only to be even more  gobsmacked when Tsuna simply met his gaze without a hint of fear or hesitation, “I'm not supposed to leave you alone, omnivore.”

Omnivore.

_Omnivore._

What.

While the former kendo club captain's brain short-circuited, Tsuna managed to convince Kyouya that he would be perfectly alright for half an hour, after which the Cloud left to get his target.

“Y-you... Hibari... omnivore... whaaaaaat. Dame-Tsuna, what the hell is going on? What have you been doing all this time?!”

To his utter surprise, the brunet just chuckled good-naturedly, “We've become close, Mochida-senpai. That's all there is to it.”

“You're  _ friends _ with  _ Hibari _ ?” the younger boy simply nodded, and he simply stared, unable to comprehend how stupid, clumsy, lonely, good-for-nothing Dame-Tsuna had turned into confident, mature, graceful, handsome Sawada Tsunayoshi in less than a year – although it had started earlier, he just hadn't wanted to acknowledge it. “Wow, I'm... how... damn, you've changed!”

Tsuna smiled nervously, “Uhm, I'll take that as a compliment.”

Mochida chuckled awkwardly, “Guess I can't call you Dame anymore, huh? So  _ did _ you drop out of school?”

“Not quite. I'm being homeschooled.”

Mochida blinked, “But no one's ever even seen you around the neighbourhood.”

“Hoomeschooled abroad.” Tsuna clarified. It wasn't even a lie, he  _ was _ homeschooled abroad. 

“Abroad? Oh, wow. You're just full of surprises, eh?”

“I guess.” he shrugged.

Mochida opened his mouth to say something when a yell from afar interrupted him, “Oi! Kensuke-kun! You'll be late for training!” he turned to see the captain of his high school kendo club.

“Hai! I'm coming!” he looked back at the brunet, “Uh sorry, but I've got to leave, Dam- uhm, Tsuna. It was... nice seeing you, I guess.”

Tsuna smiled at him, and he suddenly felt comfortably warm out of some inexplicable reason, “It was nice, Mochida-senpai.”

“Right.” he turned to leave and took a few steps when a thought struck and he turned around fast enough to stumble over his own two feet, “Wait! Da- Tsuna! There's something I need to ask you.”

He took a step back, surprised at the sudden outburst, but composed himself quickly enough, “What is it?”

Suddenly, the older boy seemed uncomfortable, as if this were the last place he wanted to be, “Well, you see, It's about... Kyouko. You seemed...” he took a moment to keep from choking on the word, “...close to her and, well, we were told she...died in an accident, but... I don't know, I just feel like that's not really what happened so I wanted to ask if you... knew...”

He trailed off as he noticed the air around Tsuna turning increasingly hostile, almost suffocatingly so. For what felt like the first time in his life, he felt cold, gripping, primal  _ fear _ , and of a younger boy nonetheless.

When Tsuna spoke, his tone was dark and commanding, “Mochida-senpai, there are some things you shouldn't know about, they're too dangerous for normal people with normal lives, like you. This is one of them. Please don't ever mention that incident again, or you might get involved in something I'd rather keep you out of.”

Mochida stood there, frozen in shock, unable to even act on his instincts –  _ run, you idiot, run!  _ – as he stared at his former underclassman in a completely new light. Tsuna then turned around, “Goodbye, Mochida-senpai. For your sake, I hope we don't meet again.” And he walked off.

“Oi! Kensuke-kun! What are you doing there, fooling around? You'll make  _ me _ late. Hurry up!”

He startled, running after the voice half out of habit, mind still dwelling on the boy that had changed so much in so little time – and apparently was involved in some shady business, which he had honestly  _ never _ expected.

He took Tsuna's warning to heart, not wanting to get tangled into the web of crime that was the underworld, a place that his father had barely escaped, what with him being a former yakuza member and all.

Seven years down the road, he would be eating his words.

* * *

 

_No hole._

_There was no hole._

_No pain._

_There was no pain._

_No blood._

_There was no midnight, coal, jet, pitch black blood._

_And yet the world was still the same empty, infinite space._

_With the same white clad, mismatched-eyed doppelgänger standing a ways from him._

_The other him stood there, watching, waiting._

_Again._

_Again._

_All again._

_Why wouldn't it stop?_

_Why was he still here?_

_This wasn't a dream anymore._

_It wasn't a nightmare either._

_Where was this?_

“ _Why...”_

_The echoing word shook his soul, froze his heart._

“ _Why won't you do it?”_

_The other him looked into his eyes, and a shiver ran down his back._

_But those eyes. Orange glowing._

_One normal._

_One void black._

_When they looked at him, they weren't completely unfeeling._

_So cold._

_No, there was something. Something._

“ _Why won't you acknowledge me?”_

_Not something nice. No, no._

_It was bad._

_Bad._

_Not anger._

_Not hate._

“ _Why are you destroying yourself?”_

_Grief._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> btw, the last sentence of the Mochida scene is not in any way implying that this story will go on for seven years. it's just a sort of foreshadowing for actual canon, where it was mention that TYL Mochida was part of the Vongola. just to clarify.


	15. War of the Heart

_He wasn't here._

_The one that came from outside, he wasn't here._

_The one that always looked scared, terrified, he wasn't here._

_The one with big, doe eyes of soft chocolate and blazing amber, he wasn't here._

_The white clad figure stood there, alone in the void._

_Alone._

_He waited._

_But the one, the other one, never came back._

_Never came back to face him._

_To confront him._

_To claim him._

_His black, orange glowing eye stared holes into the nothingness that surrounded him._

_That eye felt cold, always so cold._

_So wild, powerful, dark._

_His other eye, also emitting a Sky glow, albeit a tad warmer, looked into the darkness, hoping to find a hint of anything._

_This one was soft, warm, accepting._

_He stood there._

_He sat there._

_There was no time._

_No space._

“ _Why are you doing this?”_

_His scratchy voice echoed through the abyss._

_He looked on impassively, not awaiting a response._

_Who was he talking to?_

“ _Don't **do** this to yo **ur** self.”_

_Ah, yes. The other one._

_But the other one wasn't here anymore._

_He couldn't hear him._

_Why didn't he come back?_

“ _Do **n** 't...”_

_Unnoticed by him, a small tear, blazing like the sky with a core as black a midnight, rolled down his cheek from his white eye._

“ _ **Do** n't de **str** oy **you** r **s** elf.”_

* * *

 

Tsuna felt like a postman.

Seriously! First his mother, now Ryohei. He'd had his – admittedly very extensive – job description drilled into him for three years and then carved into his brain for the year after that, but nowhere did it say that he delivered letters.

Then again, with connections between Mafia and an outsider, this was probably the safest way. He sighed in resignation and rang the doorbell he was currently standing before. Mere seconds passed before the handle was twisted and the door opened, revealing the disgruntled face of one Kurokawa Hana, which quickly morphed into shock.

“S-sawada?”

He smiled uncertainly, “Um, hi.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Blunt and straight to the point as always, I see.”

Partly recovered from her shock, she rolled her eyes, “And when did you get such a sharp tongue?”

“Always had it, never used it.” she could have sworn that smile of his had turned into a smirk for a fraction of a second, but she decided to ignore it and asked her first question again, “Ah, just needed to bring you this.” he responded and handed her the thick, white envelope.

She took it cautiously, as if expecting whatever madness that seemed to follow Tsuna around to spring out of the sealed paper and infest her house. He honestly didn't blame her, “What is this?”

“A letter. From Onii-san.”

Her eyes widened, “Ryohei! Why would  _he_ of all people send me a letter?”

Tsuna shrugged, apparently as oblivious as she was, “I don't know for sure, but he's been worried about you ever since we moved away. I think he wanted to contact you but didn't know how to.”

She sighed in exasperation, “Hasn't he heard about e-mails? Or, hell,  _video chatting_ for all I care!”

He just grinned sheepishly, “Well, honestly, Onii-san was never good with computers, Kurokawa-san.”

“Of course. This is Ryohei we're talking about after all.” she frowned, “But couldn't he at least send it by mail like a normal person?”

Tsuna was really glad he had prepared for this conversation beforehand. Otherwise, he would have probably been scrambling for an answer and making a very suspicious fool of himself. “There's been a lot of post going missing lately between Japan and Europe, mostly Italy. Since I was already coming here to visit my parents, I offered to bring it for him instead.”

She raised an eyebrow, “You're visiting in the middle of the school term?”

He grinned, making sure to insert some mischievousness into it, “We have fall vacations right now.”

“Lucky you.” she mumbled under her breath.

Tsuna exhaled softly. He hated it. He hated lying to her, but he didn't want to involve her any more than she already was. And if for that he needed to deceive her, then he would tell a thousand lies.

“I have to go, then. It was nice seeing you, Kurokawa-san.”

“Wait.”

He turned back to her, “What?”

She seemed unsure for a moment, but then pulled herself together, “There's no address on the envelope. What if I want to write back?”

He stared at her. And stared. And kept staring as if that was the most ludicrous thing she could have possibly said. “What.”

“You heard me.” She was slightly unnerved by his reaction, but hid it well under a mask of annoyance.

He took a moment to pick the right words before speaking, having honestly not expected this. It was strange enough that Ryohei had insisted upon the letter, but since when was Hana also interested in contact? “Kurokawa-san, this... I don't think that's a very good idea.”

“And why not?” he was about to reply, but choked on his words at her next ones, “I know, Sawada.” He blinked, eyes wide as saucers. Surely he had misheard- “I don't know exactly what it is that you people are up to, but it's quite obvious that you didn't all go to Italy at the same time just to go to school there. I don't know what kind of business you're involved in and I probably don't want to, but at least grant me this. Ryohei... he's the last remnant I have of... of Kyouko and... no matter how dangerous... I don't want to lose him too.”

Tsuna remained silent, not knowing what to say. Her face showed only honesty and her eyes still reflected the same grief he had seen there just days after the  _Incident_ , when she had approached him with thunderous steps and then ran away in broken pieces. To this day, he didn't know what exactly had happened at that time, but...

Tsuna sighed. He was so going to regret this later, but...

But he could relate.

“The Disciplinary Committee.”

“Huh?”

“Give your letter to a member of the former Disciplinary Committee and tell them I sent you. It should be able to get to Onii-san that way.”

She blinked, “So...”

He nodded, “I don't want you involved, Kurokawa-san, but I can only stop you as long as you're willing.”

There was silence between them for a while, not comfortable, but not awkward either, until she finally found her voice again. “Thank you.”

The brunet shook his head, “Nothing to thank me for. But I really need to get going...”

She smiled at him then and it was probably the fist honest smile she had ever sent his way, “Goodbye, Sawada. It was nice.”

He waved as he retreated from the now closed door and started walking back to the Foundation base. There was still something he needed to talk about with Kyouya and he wanted to do it as quickly as possible.

The situation in Italy, it wasn't turbulent per se, but as long as the pseudo-peace was lasting, he had a really bad feeling. It was quiet in the Italian underworld. Too quiet. Quiet like an abandoned, haunted house. Like the quiet before the storm, before the chaos, before the bloo-

~  _Hane ga nai tenshi wa boku ni itta_ ~

He was startled out of his musings by the ringing of his cellphone. He quickly fished it out of his pocket and looked at the caller ID. It was VX, which probably meant they were calling from his office. He frowned in thought as he pressed a button and lifted the phone to his ear. What could his be about?

“Hello?”

“ _Juudaime-sama!”_ his frown deepened. What would the head butler of all people need to call him for? And from his own phone nonetheless.

“Hideki-san? What is it?”

“ _We're under attack!”_

* * *

 

It had been a wonderful day. Sunny, breezy, no one exceptionally grumpy, in short, utterly peaceful. Haru had spent the morning playing with the children and trying to convince them that no, poker was not an acceptable game for such young minds to indulge in. But they had been quite adamant in their insistence, and she had given in – although not before swearing that if she ever found the bastard that had taught them this, there would be hell to pay.

Throughout the whole morning, however, she had noticed something off. The furtive glances they sent each other and the secretive whispers followed by mischievous giggles had set alarm bells off in her head, but when she had asked, they had only made a vague mention of a new friend and how they would keep him no matter what. Damn these Mafia children for being able to change the subject with their ambiguous answers and twisted half truths!

It came out of nowhere.

BOOM.

An explosion, jarring, shocking, mind-numbing.

BOOM.

Another one.

And the ground trembled and the chips clattered on the floor.

But the children didn't panic. They were surprised, yes, or more like astonished. But still they didn't panic.

Of course they didn't, they were used to this. It was probably just some training gone wrong or one of the infamous, mansion-wrecking fights between Tsuna's Cloud and Mist. Only the Cloud wasn't here. Only those explosions were always contained. They came from inside the mansion.

These came from outside.

Remembering all those special lessons at school about how to deal with earthquakes (although this wasn't exactly an earthquake, but at the rate this was going it might as well be) she tucked the kids underneath the table, telling them in no uncertain terms to stay there until she came back or someone else came to get them.

Taking a deep breath, she dashed out of the room in shaky legs, the tremors of the ground not helping the matter. She looked for someone, anyone, to explain just what the heck was going on, but didn't find a single person until she turned the fourth corner.

One of the maids was hurrying along towards Kami knew where when she called out to her. The woman turned around and a spark of recognition lighted her eyes.

“You're Signorina Haru Miura, right?”

“Uh, y-yes. Why? Is there a problem?” she asked in apprehensive confusion.

The maid just shook her head and grabbed her by the arm, dragging her off to somewhere, “The head butler has been asking for your presence at the Boss' office. He said it's urgent.”

“Um, okay. But, say, what's going on? What's with these explosions?”

The woman turned her head to look back at her for only the shortest moment, so that Haru couldn't really recognize how she had looked at her, “We're being attacked, Signorina. There's been some trouble brewing in the north and apparently it was with us.”

Her eyes widened, “A-attacked? B-but- How... Wha...”

The maid seemed to shrug, “Happens every once in a while, when someone doesn't like us. Vongola, that is. Only right now, a lot of people don't like us. But don't worry, Signorina. We have the Guardians, no? They're very strong, seen it with my own eyes.”

“A-ah, yes.” she gulped, suddenly feeling oh so very small.

The maid seemed to pick up on this as the hand curled around her arm momentarily squeezed tighter, as if in reassurance. “It's alright. We're Vongola, the strongest Famiglia in the italian Mafia. It'll be over soon enough.”

Before Haru had the chance to reply, the finally arrived at the big, oaken double doors of the main office, where a elder man with distinctly japanese features stood in wait, phone in hand. “Ah, Miura-sama. Juudaime-sama has asked to speak with you. He insists that it's of utter importance.” with that he handed her the phone, which she took with no small amount of trepidation.

“H-hello? Tsuna-san?”

“Haru! Thank goodness you're okay! But there's no time to lose. I trust you already know of the situation?” she nodded, then realized he couldn't see her and vocalized her answer, “Good. That makes things a lot simpler. You've been apprenticing under the secretary, right?”

“Yes, though I was about to pretty much take over the job since she's all but retired by now.”

“Perfect. That means you know your way around that maze of paperwork?”

She blinked, “You mean the archives? I do.”

“Yeah, that maze of paperwork. Then-” he was interrupted by a loud noise in the background.

“What is that?” she asked in concern.

“Nothing. The jet's just about to take off so we need to do this quickly.”

“Jet?”

“I'm going there, Haru! There's no way I'm leaving you all to fight while I stay here.”

“But what about-”

“My business here is pretty much done anyway. Kyouya-san will stay here in case of a... slip-up, though. Now, back to the subject, there's some documents I need you to check out with private, classified numbers. They're encrypted so I'll give you the key. When you have them, there's some very important calls I need you to make. It'll take you a few hours, but it's still faster than letting word travel on its own. Do you understand, Haru?”

Did she understand? From what Tsuna was telling her, this was a hell of a lot of responsibility. Could she do this? She thought back to the kids, hiding it out under a table. She thought to Tsuna, who had given her another chance at life. And her answer was clear.

With pure will to protect, to shield, and newfound resolve that crackled under her skin and burned in a way that only made her feel energized and ready to face whatever came at her, she took a deep breath and answered:

“I understand, Tsuna-san. Tell me what to do.”

She could almost hear his smile on the other side of the line,”Good. Now, listen carefully...”

* * *

 

He sat.

He waited.

Impatiently, he waited. When would the jet arrive? When would it be in Italy?

Would he arrive in time?

Would he be too late?

…

Would he even be able to help?

Tsuna was no fool. He could feel it, the weakness of his flames. The were pure, yes (seemingly at least), but not strong. Not as strong as before. Would that be enough? Would he be too weak?

But...

But there was something else, wasn't there? He didn't only have Sky. He had another kind of power. A dark, overwhelming power. Surely with that he could-

“ _Or I will **destroy you**.”_

No!

What was he doing? That had destroyed him! How could he even be considering this?

But it was _power_.

And to protect his family, he needed power.

“ _You need me.”_

No. No!

He didn't. He didn't need the cold, the darkness. He was a Sky, light and all-encompassing, nothing more.

He didn't...

“ _You can't divide me.”_

He could... He could handle it, Night or not. He wouldn't use _that_. Not now, not ever.

“ _You can't deny me.”_

It would be more than enough. He was strong enough already. He had beaten Mukuro, Xanxus, Byakuran, Enma and even Bermuda of the all-powerful Vindice.

He was strong enough.

“ _You are **powerless** without me.”_

He didn't...

He didn't...

He... did?

“ _Why won't you acknowledge me?”_

Then, an unexpected moment of epiphany.

Orange. Black.

Sky. Night.

Both his.

His eyes widened as slowly, he began connecting the dots, seeing the whole picture. Suddenly, the ominous, terrifying thing in his head made sense.

It wasn't there to kill him.

It wasn't there to harm him.

“ _Why are you destroying yourself?”_

It was there to... protect him.

It was...

It was...

The world went black and Tsuna slumped into his seat.

* * *

 

_He was back here._

_The endless expanse of black greeted as coldly as ever, but this time it didn't scare him, didn't terrify him._

_Then he found him, sitting on the ground, oblivious to his arrival._

“ _You...” He tried to say, but didn't quite know how to continue. Nevertheless, the noise served its purpose and he quickly found himself looking into a pair of mismatched eyes._

“ _...you're back?”_

_He didn't acknowledge the question, merely tried to bring out the words in the right order. “Why did you do that?”_

_The question was completely out of place, and yet the other him already had an answer ready. “You wouldn't hear me. I tried talking, but you wouldn't hear me.”_

“ _So you attacked me?”_

_By this time, the other him was already standing up and walking towards him. He didn't move. “I didn't. It shouldn't have hurt. What happened was what you expected to happen. This is your world.”_

_He didn't quite know what was meant by that, but kept asking his questions, “You threatened me.”_

_A shake of the head, “I stated reality.”_

“ _...you have a strange mind.”_

_The doppelgäger smiled at him in a way oddly devoid of emotion. “I don't have a mind. I am what you think I am, nothing more.”_

“ _So you are...”_

“ _You know?”_

“ _...my power...”_

_This time, the smile was a bit brighter, a tad more real. “What power?”_

“ _All of it. The parts I know, the ones I don't and the ones I tried to deny. All of it.”_

“ _And?”_

“ _My willingness... to do anything for the sake of my family. Anything at all.”_

_The other him observed him for a moment, “And you also know that...”_

_He took a moment to compose himself, “I can't deny you, nor divide you. You are both my Sky and my Night, my compassion and my ruthlessness.”_

_The other nodded, seemingly pleased._

“ _But... why not tell me before?” he asked, receiving a sad glance in return._

“ _You know that yourself. A man that does not know himself nor the power he holds is not fit to wield that power.”_

_Then it clicked, “So... you blocked off my flames? Is that why they were so weak?”_

_He nodded, then reached out a hand._

“ _You have acknowledged me.” he sounded almost giddy, “Will you also accept me?”_

_He hesitated for a moment, but resolve soon filled his eyes as he grasped to offered hand firmly in his own. “I do. For my family, I accept you.”_

_There was smile, warm, blazing, dark, wild. It remained even as the non-existent body before him dissolved. It remained as his body felt hot and cold and overwhelmed. It remained as fire and resolve burned in his eyes, under his skin, all around his fists._

_It remained in his flames, excitedly roaring inside him at the prospect of the oncoming battle._

_And the darkness, the deep, black, infinite darkness, finally receded._

_He stood on soft, long grass, a large expanse of green all around him with nothing else in sight. And the sky – there was a_ sky _– seemed stuck in perpetual dawn. One side of the horizon blue, so blue and simple and perfect. The other side painted in an infinite palette of colours, becoming darker and darker until it touched the horizon, where the countless, bright stars that dotted the entire expanse were the most visible, shining and twinkling in a way that seemed almost friendly._

_For the first time in a long while, Tsuna felt whole._

* * *

 

He opened his eyes and immediately looked at the map.

Italy!

Not just that, but close enough to Headquarters.

Quickly standing up, gloves, ring, headphones and contacts all equipped, he headed towards the main door of the jet.

It opened at the scan of a finger and closed behind him as he entered a small, cramped space.

He readied himself.

The next door opened.

And he was soaring through the skies.


	16. Bonds of Blood

“But you see, Uni, humans are selfish creatures.” The albino suddenly said as he set his cup down. Uni looked at him amusedly and decided to humour him.

“How so?”

They did this every once in a while, when they could spare some time to get together for some coffee. Random philosophical conversations that came out of nowhere. Every time, both of them adamantly argued their case, but not once had it ever turned into a heated argument. Just a simple discussion for their own amusement. It was rather fun, though. Talking formally as if in an actual debate, that is.

Byakuran grinned, spurred on by her expectant silence, “They pretend to care about others – to like, to love, to hate – to make themselves look better when in truth, all these relationships are just plain business.”

She frowned, “I'm afraid I don't see where you're going with this.”

“Ah, then it seems you don't understand human nature, my dear.” he chuckled, “Human beings, by nature, are made to conglomerate. A human cannot survive for long in isolation. They seek the company of others because their survival instinct compels them to and form what people like to call relationships but are in reality just unofficial contracts formed between two people to be sure of each other's constant companionship. It's a method of survival. The preservation of one's own life, man's greatest treasure.”

His grin widened at the short silence that followed his statement.

* * *

 

Pain.

Blood.

Pain.

Battle.

Pain.

Mukuro.

Hours.

Mukuro.

Pain.

Mukuro.

_Mukuro._

_Mukuro!_

“Mukuro-sama! Watch out!” she shouted, her voice raw, as a sword clipped her counterpart's shoulder, barely missing his neck. He spared a second to nod thankfully in her direction before jumping back into the fray to hack away at their enemies.

She held on tightly to her trident, trying to keep herself upright. Hours. It had been hours since the first explosion, since this chaos, this hell started. She didn't know how many, but definitely more than eight. It was jarring. It was terrifying. It was _painful_.

Not just her external wounds, the numerous, bleeding scratches on her body, the deep gouge on her side or the sprained ankle and three broken fingers. Inside. Her organs, they were still weak. She wasn't supposed to be doing such arduous work right after the operation.

Not like she had a choice.

The pain was unbearable and she could barely stand, let alone fight. But she had to. She had to. She had to. She had to. There was no other option. She would stand and fight, even if her body couldn't stand it.

Because behind her, in the mansion, were the kids. Behind her were the maids and butlers and other staff. Behind her were her friends. And she would not fail to protect them.

But it scared her.

It scared her. They were up against so many enemies, all of them powerful in their own right. Their own forces were stretched far too thin, even going as far as to having just the two Mists guarding the north of the mansion, the main entrance, and some squads of fighters. She understood why they had paired them up, as they worked best together, and she was even thankful for it – Mukuro was a reassuring presence in this hell of blood.

But that's what they were, Mist. The Mist was supposed to deceive and hide, to cover the truth and make lies into reality.

They were not suited for direct combat.

It was scary, terrifying, but- but- Mukuro was here with her. Mukuro was fighting alongside her, trying to protect her as much as she tried to protect him (and being marginally more successful at it).

Mukuro was _here_.

With _her_.

And he wouldn't leave.

They would fight together until all threats to their beautiful, precious family were eradicated, and all the while they would support each other, as companions.

As partners.

As friends.

As brother and sister.

Because that's what they were.

Brought out of her musings by a sudden, sharp pain through her right side, Chrome turned the slightest bit, narrowly avoiding the second dagger thrown at her. She unconsciously found the source of the blade and stabbed in its general direction, feeling her trident thrust into something soft.

She stumbled, almost losing her balance and falling to the ground, but kept herself upright and readied her trident for another attack.

A rush of air flew by her ear and she turned just in time to parry a sword coated in Storm flames. Her eyes widened and she tried to pull away, but the flames had already eaten away at her weapon and it was only her fast reflexes that saved her from being sliced in two, gaining a large gash on her shoulder instead.

She blocked out the pain, instead focusing on remaking her trident mid-swing, taking the man off guard for long enough for the weapon to reach his gut.

Still trying to ignore the burning agony, she took a deep breath and looked around desperately. Where was he? Where was he? Was he still fighting? Was he still alive? Was he dea-

There!

She found him a ways away, facing multiple opponents whose numbers never seemed to dwindle and moving through them with deceivingly light steps as his flames blinded his foes, turned them against each other and burned the skin off their bodies, leaving only blistering flesh.

And his trident painted the ground crimson and sprayed the air scarlet.

Assured of his presence, she fought. Through the pain, she fought. She fought and survived one encounter after another. Her flames fluctuated, gave her enemies their sight back for a moment, but she kept them under control.

A stab here. A burn there.

She fought.

Until the flames, the other flames, _his_ flames, suddenly vanished.

* * *

 

Uni's frown deepened, “If what you say is true, then the concept of loss wouldn't be nearly as horrifying for us as it is. These 'contracts', as you call them, could be easily replaced.” she argued, clearly thinking she had cornered him. It was a fact of life, after all, that simple contracts could always be lost and remade. One could not compare that act to the loss of someone close to one's heart.

Byakuran kept smiling, and his tone became suddenly chiding as he poured himself another cup, inserting more sugar cubes than she thought was healthy, probably just to spite her.

“Now, now. You're confusing modern contracts with those of primal human nature. When a person close to you dies, that feeling that most confuse with sadness is actually the simple realization of the loss of an important contract, which means the loss of one infinite, definite guarantee of human contact. It is irreplaceable, or at least it feels so.”

* * *

 

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

Mukuro.

_No._

_No._

_No!_

NO.

Blood.

It was redredredred. The ground painted crimson, the air sprayed scarlet.

A lone trident lied on the ground.

Alone.

On the blood soaked grass.

It built up beneath her skin. Slowly, burning away at her.

Her Mist, once light, was now dark and heavy.

It built up inside her.

And as she reached for the coldcoldcold looked cold, no, warm, still warm, looked warm, body.

It exploded outwards.

Indigo swarmed the field, clogging airways, darkening sights, becoming solid and stabbingrippingwrecking through enemies as if it was a mere extension of her.

And she kept reaching for him.

But they came between them.

They all came between them.

They all had to go.

Get out of her way.

 _Now_.

But she never reached him. And slowly, maddeningly, the fames began to dwindle until the last grasp on them loosened and she fell to her knees, face blank and eyes empty.

As her heart felt crushed and burnt and stabbed, she closed her eyes, accepting her fate and cursing her weakness all the same.

A moment passed in silence.

A moment passed with the rush of flames in the air.

A moment passed with a shadow over her.

And then she felt it. Protection, shield, embrace.

Warmth.

* * *

 

“Your cynical view of the world is as always philosophical, but I fear I must disagree.” she smiled at him that wry smile that always prophesied a calm and collected verbal lashing, and suddenly Byakuran didn't think he could hold back on the sugar today.

“Oh?” he said, no hint of an inner conflict to be heard in his voice.

She looked at him, into him, through him, in a penetrating way only she could pull off, “For all you see, Sky of Mare, you are blind.”

“But I see everything, dear.” the placid smile he gave her didn't convince either of them.

Uni shook her head. “No, because hidden between these contracts are bonds.”

“I don't see a difference.” it was his turn to listen now, and a small, almost undetectable frown marred his brow.

Her smile widened, “But there is one. Rather than just a guarantee of continued survival, these bonds are but one of the many forces that keep the universe connected.”

* * *

 

Safe.

She suddenly felt safe.

Daring to open her eyes, everything suddenly made sense.

Draped around her shoulders was a thick, black cape, soft to the touch. Supporting her now frail body was a pair of strong, slim arms, wrapped around her as if in an embrace. Warming up her cold, clammy skin were flames, purer and stronger than ever before. She looked up.

A pair of sharp, glowing, worried eyes looked back at her, lighting up the moment she met his gaze.

Sky.

Boss.

A hoarse whisper, almost inaudible, escaped his lips, “Chrome?”

With great difficulty, but wanting to banish the concern from his eyes, she spoke, “I'm- I'm fine, Boss. I just-”

“No, you're not.”

“I-I...”

“Did they do this to you?”

“...”

She didn't answer, but she didn't need to. Closing his eyes for a moment, as if to compose himself, he took in a deep, resounding breath and opened them again to reveal a blazing inferno. He held her gaze, and she couldn't help but become lost in the dark, shadowy depths of those flaming eyes.

Then they turned forward, towards the surrounding mass of armed men and women who were quickly getting over their shock, and sharpened, narrowing dangerously at the blood soaked weapons.

“B-boss...” she was losing her grasp on consciousness, but the protective thrum of his flames kept her somewhat aware.

Tsuna didn't look back down at her, but his voice was firm and his tone final when he spoke, “Don't worry, Chrome. I'll get you out of here.” his gaze flickered momentarily towards the limp Mist several yards away, “Both of you.”

Gently, he let go of her and placed her on the ground, turning to face the enemies. Through the haze of her disordered mind and her half closed lids, she saw him clench his fist.

Then, right in front of him, for a split second, appeared a _blackvoidabyssnight_ hole, a _rip_ in reality, and he was gone. Somewhere on the field, at that same moment, the blood of an unaware enemy was spilt, so quickly that no scream managed to pierce the air.

Chaos erupted in the northern battlefield.

Then everything went black.

* * *

 

“You would know about that, wouldn't you, Sky Arcobaleno?” Byakuran chuckled amusedly.

“I am no such thing anymore.” she corrected, though her voice held no heat.

“Of course. I apologize. Please continue.” was his diplomatic reply.

She looked at him reproachfully, clearly hearing the sarcastic undertone in his words, but decided to brush it off and took a bite of a biscuit instead.

“As I was saying, contracts are a product of human nature, bonds, however, are bridges between souls that transcend time and thus, connect the world. The strength of these bonds and the deep connection that ensues are what allow us to understand each other, and from that moment onwards, it is possible to give instead of taking, or even sacrifice our own lives, your so called 'man's greatest treasure', for another.”

Ah, so this was what she was trying to get at. Partly mocking and partly conceding the point, he decided to finish up for her.

“So the selfish beast-”

She smiled knowingly, “-becomes a selfless creature.”

* * *

 

A short pause in the battle.

Tsuna coughed into his hand.

His Night flames were locked away. Deep, deep inside him. They were still there, just out of view. Because just as he couldn't simply get rid of his hatred, he also couldn't simply get rid of his Night.

He had known they were still there. Even while everyone else thought they were gone, he had known. But he'd drowned himself in denial. Now that had accepted them, however, he could access them as well. Unlock the cage for a moment to let the beast rampage.

Still, accepting it did not mean everything was well.

As well as he could now use these flames, they still could not coexist with his Sky flames. No matter what, they always clashed inside his body, always broke it apart, little by little. But...

He looked at his hand, covered in blood.

...if this was the price he had to pay to better protect his family, then so be it.

Wiping away the blood from his lips with the back of the same hand, he decided to use this lull in the battle. He raised a hand to his headphones, turning them on and letting them automatically find the right channel.

 _Bzzzt_ _“Who is this?”_

“Gokudera-kun? It's me.”

“ _J-j-ju-juudaime?!”_ the distant sound of a crash could be heard from the other side, _“W-wh-wha-! Why are you here? Weren't you in Namimori?”_

“It's a long story. Just know I'm here, north of the mansion. Mukuro and Chrome are down. We've lost a third of our forces but are otherwise doing well. Still, I just came here, I need a complete status report. Do you know the general situation?”

“ _O-of course. It's my duty as a right-hand-man, after all!”_ his voice then adopted a grim, more professional tone, _“It's not going that well. We're spread thin. Rokudo and Dokuro were stationed at the north, the main entrance, as you know. Yamamoto and I are at the west, Sasagawa and Lambo at the east.”_

Tsuna frowned, “Lambo?”

“ _Juudaime, when I said we're spread thin I meant it. We need every offensive force we can get, and Lambo packs more than enough of a punch.”_

Tsuna sighed in resignation, “I get it. What about the south?”

“ _Hideki is there, leading most of our normal forces. His is by far the best situation, the squads are very organized.”_

“And overall?” a cough.

“ _Juudaime? Are you alright? What was that?”_

“I-I'm fine, Gokudera-kun. The question.”

“ _Right. Honestly, this is pretty much the worst time for us to be attacked. Especially in such a large scale as this. Nono's in Spain, the Varia recently moved to their northern base for a series of operations, the CEDEF's still in disarray from the recent change of head and our own forces are in horrible shape. A good deal of our men left us at your declaration back then too and the new recruits that we've been trying to fill that hole with are subpar at best.”_

“The timing was most probably planned.” His frown deepened, “So in short, it's not looking good.”

“ _I'm afraid not- goddamit, figlio de merda! Sorry, someone got the jump on me. I have no idea why we still haven't received reinforcements, though.”_

“Well, as many as we're facing, this is not the northern alliance in its entirety. It's possible that they're also attacking our allies on a smaller scale in order to distract them. Because of that, they might not even know yet that we're under attack as well. Although that should be fixed by now...” the last part was muttered quietly enough for Hayato to dismiss it as simple background noise.

“ _That... is actually very probable. Damn.”_

“Don't dwell on it, Gokudera-kun. Just keep fighting. We'll receive help soon enough.”

“ _Of course, Juudaime.”_ Hayato didn't know what help he was talking about, but he would trust in his Boss, just as he had done all those times before. With that, the connection was cut, just in time for Tsuna to lean his head to the right, avoiding a bullet clearly aimed at him.

With a deep breath, unsealing the Night once again, he threw himself into the fray yet again.

Not once did he pay any mind to the coughs racking his body or the blood dribbling from his chin.

This pain was nothing compared to what losing someone felt.

Not again.

 _ **Never** again_.

* * *

 

The purple eyed albino took a sip of his coffee, using the lull in conversation to lead it slightly astray, “My, humans are such fascinating creatures.” he said airily, superior smirk firmly in place.

“You speak of us as if you weren't one.” Uni's eye's showed disapproval. His smirk simply turned derisive.

“And you speak of them as if you _were_.”

Her tone became harder, “I consider myself human enough, no matter my ancestry.”

“Of course.” he said simply, tone light.

Again, she gave him that _look_ that seemingly saw into and through him and his smirk fell away. “But Byakuran, you have these bonds too. With Irie-san, with your Funeral Wreaths, with Tsunayoshi.” her eyes softened and she smiled, “With me. What does that make you if not human?”

He placed his hand under his chin and looked slightly upwards, a mocking picture of thoughtfulness, “A collector.”

“So we are objects?” she frowned slightly.

He just smiled, this time in a deceivingly friendly manner “No, no. Just fascinating creatures.”

She sighed resignedly, slowly getting tired of his insistence on this particular subject. Not human? She mentally scoffed. No, that wasn't it. Byakuran had more than enough humanity in him, even though he always denied it. Everything pointed towards the remains of his strong God complex from before his defeat at Tsunayoshi's hands, but sometimes, sometimes she wondered if there wasn't more to it (if it wasn't that he now recognized an inhuman monster in the mirror after said defeat had opened his eyes to his own loneliness disguised as boredom).

Byakuran's sing-song voice interrupted her train of thought, “Say, instead of drinking coffee and debating philosophy here with me, shouldn't you be worrying about the enemy on your doorstep?”

She waved her hand in dismissal, “I left Gamma in charge of that. He insisted that I needed my rest and that the enemy was nothing he couldn't handle. Honestly? Those numbers weren't impressive. So I left him to it. He seemed eager enough. And I haven't heard any explosions for a while now, so they must be done.”

He laughed lightly.

At that moment, a butler stepped onto the balcony, carrying a phone with him, “Princess, a call from Vongola. They say it's urgent.”

Somewhat startled, she took the phone, slightly unnerved by Byakuran's widening grin (though she would never admit it out loud).

“Hello?”

A tired female voice answered, _“Ah, finally! Ahem, I am Miura Haru, recently employed secretary of Vongola Decimo, Sawada Tsunayoshi. And you must be Uni of Giglio Nero?”_

Uni didn't know what to make of this, so she just confirmed her statement.

“ _Great. I was told that Byakuran Gesso is with you at the moment. Please tell him this too. As the only currently available representative of the Vongola, I hereby request your aid at our Headquarters.”_

She frowned, “What's going on?”

“ _We've been under attack from presumably Scoglio and their allies for several hours now and aren't faring... as well as we would like. We are requesting help from all our available allies.”_

Her eyes widened, “Under attack!” she looked in the general direction where the attack on the Giglio Nero had taken place. So that was just to stall? A distraction? “I understand. We will provide aid as soon as possible. Thank you for informing me.”

“ _A-ah, no problem. That's the last on the list...”_ the line went dead and Uni hung up, standing up and striding down the hall, quickly followed by Byakuran.

She sent him a sidelong glance, then an accusing glare when she noticed his knowing smile, “You knew.”

“Hm?”

“You knew of this and let me sit there, relaxing and drinking coffee. You knew and didn't tell me.”

He tilted his head, “I did.”

“Why?”

At that, his expression suddenly turned grim. “You die.”

She blinked, “H-huh?”

He sighed, “If you had gotten there early, you would have died. That battlefield... it's a sea of blood right now.”

Her eyes softened and she looked forwards again, “Tell me next time.”

“Can't make any promises.”

* * *

 

A sea of blood.

That was an apt description, at least in Hideki Noboru's humble opinion. It had been a long time since he had last seen such bloodshed. But no matter, as the head butler of Vongola Headquarters, he would not fail his mission: protect the Famiglia at all costs.

As he retreated for a moment to take a small breather, he noticed the enemy break their defences to his right. Almost in reflex, he threw three knives at the swarm of opponents. They went unnoticed until they were only a few feet away from the targets, at which point the purple flames coating the knives became visible and three blades suddenly turned into thirty.

The threats were immediately eliminated.

The breach in their defences closed up soon after under his orders. Still, while the situation was still well under control, they were losing more than they were taking. That was an indisputable fact. He tried thinking of some plan, some strategy to turn the tables, but no matter how hard he thought, he couldn't come up with something. It was frustrating.

At that moment, his earpiece unexpectedly came to life, _“Attention, all Vongola troops that can hear me... which are probably just the leaders... ehm, sorry, I mean- goodness, I'm horrible at this.”_

Hideki frowned. That voice, he could recognize it. That was the girl his Boss had wished to speak to when he had informed him of the attack. How could she have possibly gotten into the system?

“ _Anyways, reinforcements are coming. I repeat, reinforcements are coming. Tsuna-san, Timoteo-san and his Guardians will be arriving soon at the north. Gokudera, Yamamoto-san, the Varia should be almost at the west by now. Ryohei-san... L-lambo-kun... The Cavallone and Shimon have sent their men towards the east, though the Cavallone will probably arrive first. Hideki-san, please hang in there. It'll be a while, but the Gesso and Giglio Nero have agreed to send help to the south. The Giegue have also sent help, but it will probably make it here a bit later. As for the Spada, they are currently also struggling with an attack and can't spare any men. That is all. Man, I'm glad that's over... oh! It's still on-” Bzzzt_

The man stood there, stock still, trying to process what she had just said.

Yet again, he wondered where the Boss got all these unbelievable people from.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a big thanks to my best friend (who's not even in this fandom) for helping me clear out all the holes in that Byakuran-Uni conversation and with the wording. Thanks T*****!


	17. Old Wounds, New Chances

Ashes.

Blood.

Burnt skin.

Charred flesh.

These were the scents of war.

The howling of the wind.

Pained groans.

Despairing wails.

The cracking of bones.

These were the sounds of war.

Corpses. Blood. Ashes. Ruins. Fading lives. Shadows. Tatters. Flesh.

These were the sights of war.

A lone figure meandered in the aftermath of a battle, the remains of a battlefield.

Months ago, he wouldn't have been able to cope with his surroundings, with the cruel, dark reality they brought with them. Then again, months ago he had been a mere child. A child ridden with guilt, covered in darkness, destined for blood and forced to grow up too fast, but a child nonetheless.

Children had innocence.

Children could afford to aim for a happy ending.

He didn't.

He couldn't.

These were the thoughts that occupied his mind as he wandered aimlessly through the former battlefield, far too used to the guilt and regrets weighing down his heart to dwell on them any further. He walked and walked and walked, not knowing what to expect or if he was even expecting anything.

They were probably looking for him.

He shouldn't have disappeared like that.

But he wanted to be alone.

Alone...

Did he, really?

Yet another thought to mull over as his feet dragged him across ashes and ruins, avoiding corpses or the stray survivor hiding out in a pathetic attempt not to catch his attention. What was a person doing here anyways? These ruins were not exactly the best place to live in, even by the standards of any homeless person. There was a reason why this place was still abandoned even weeks after the battle – every battlefield of this war ended up like that.

Stretching his senses in detached curiosity, he felt the weak, soft hum of a-

Sky flame?

What.

His feet stopped moving, stopped dragging him to nowhere and he turned his head the slightest bit to the left, trying to catch a glimpse of whoever was there. But there were only crumbling walls and bent pipes to greet his eyes. Behind them perhaps?

A faint sound caught his attention, of pebbles being accidentally made to roll along the the ground by a traitorous foot. Soft curses, almost inaudible, muttered in a high voice that could never belong to a man. A child, then. Feeling something squeezing through the numbness, he decided to do something he would later label as 'Very Stupid'.

He called out, in a raspy, raw voice.

“Who's there?”

A sharp intake of breath, the slight rustle of worn clothes as his body stiffened, a step taken too fast, as if by reflex.

There was silence. None of them would give in first. No sound travelled through the air other than the thumping of two hearts and the deliberately slow breathing of both parties.

None would give in first...

Well, patience had never been his forte.

He took a step forward, all his attention focused on the seemingly single other living person in this grey, desolate piece of hell – and promptly proceeded to trip on a rock, too surprised to land on anything other than his face.

As he slowly tried to sit up, brain still muddled with incredulity, another presence made itself very obviously known. Directly in front of him.

“A year.”

He looked up and was met with sight of the former Arcobaleno, now looking more like a seven-year-old than a baby, a frown of disapproval clear on his face.

“An entire year and then some without a single bout of clumsiness.” his frown deepened, “A fucking _year_ , Dame-Tsuna.” Oh goodness, he was using that nickname again, the nickname that had all but disappeared in the time since he had officially become Decimo. This did not bode well for him. “And then you trip. Over a _rock_. In the middle of a battlefield nonetheless!”

“Well, it's not really a battlefield anymore-”

“ _Dame-Tsuna._ ”

He needed a distraction! “Um, what are you doing here anyways, Reborn?” he rubbed the back of his neck in the broken imitation of a sheepish gesture he remembered doing often in his past arguments with the Hitman. He almost felt like laughing hysterically. Look at him, trying to relive times long dead – even though the other's presence gave him warmth and seem to thaw something in him.

Reborn saw right through it, if the unimpressed (and somewhat worried) lifting of his eyebrow was anything to go by, but answered anyways “You disappeared again and Gokudera was fretting. You shouldn't do that, it worries everyone.” he admonished half-heartedly, knowing that he wouldn't be getting through his student's skull any time soon. This was an established habit by now, if a bad one.

Tsuna sighed tiredly, having expected the answer, “I'm sorry.” the words were hollow, meaningless, “But you know me... these last few months... I-I need to... a-and there's someone else here.”

That got the Hitman's attention, his senses suddenly catching the wary, light steps of someone trying to get away without alerting them. His eyes narrowed, but Tsuna shook his head and stood up, heading for the mysterious person's hiding spot behind a bunch of crumbling walls, “We're not here to harm you. Please come out.”

Reborn stared incredulously at him, almost at the verge of drop-kicking his student in reprimand, when a small, dark mop of hair poked out from behind a broken wall, slowly followed by a dark-skinned forehead and, lastly, a pair of red-rimmed, green eyes that shone with exhaustion and wariness, almost mirroring Tsuna's own.

But something, _something_ told him that this boy meant no harm, that he needed to meet him here.

A fated encounter, his subconscious whispered.

He wondered why.

Lifting his empty hands in the universal sign of harmlessness, he beckoned the boy towards him, offering him a small, strained smile that he had spent weeks in front of the mirror trying to perfect. That it was hard to genuinely smile these days didn't mean that he didn't need to do so when a diplomatic situation called for it.

The boy stayed were he was for a minute or two and Tsuna was about to give up when he finally stood up completely and slowly walked out from behind the wall, steps measured and wary.

“Who are you?” the boy repeated his own question, standing at what he probably thought was safe distance. Oh how wrong he was.

Tsuna's smile grew smaller but a bit more true at the sound of the childish, somewhat raw voice, “My name's Tsuna. What's yours?”

The boy looked apprehensive, but still complied, “Nico.”

“What are you doing here, Nico? This is no place for children to roam around.”

His eyes sharpened, gleaming with an easily readable mixture of grief, anger and detachment, (and since when did he care so little for others' privacy when using his Hyper Intuition?) “...I... I came here to see my mom again.”

Tsuna's brow furrowed in confusion, “Your mom?”

After a moment's hesitation, he pointed towards a large slab of stone to his right, under which a seemingly female corpse was half buried-

Oh.

“...are you alone, Nico?”

The boy stiffened for a moment, but then his shoulders slumped and he gave an almost imperceptible nod. Something inside Tsuna seemed to twist painfully and reach out towards the small child dressed in tatters. After a moment of inner conflict, a small but fierce light that had been absent for much too long entered his eyes.

“Would you like to come with me?”

The boy startled, eyes wide as he tried to process the offer. Faintly, Tsuna could feel the tiny Sky inside him flicker excitedly. Then a shadow of doubt covered his eyes. “Why?”

Tsuna blinked. Why... why indeed. Why was he doing this? Ever since the Vongola's victory (by the skin of their teeth) at the attack on their headquarters several months ago, the war had started. Ever since that first battle, many people had lost their families and loved ones to war. Ever since that bloodbath, many, many children had been orphaned. And it was all his fault.

This was just another one of them. Just another orphan.

So why did he make that offer?

Why was he offering shelter and food to one of many victims?

Why did this boy feel so _special_?

So... so _important_?

In the end, he went with truth, “I don't know. I just feel like I should.”

The wariness never left his eyes, “You... that crest... you're Vongola, aren't you? You're the reason why... my mom... it's your fault, isn't it?”

Tsuna had completely forgotten about the crest stitched onto his cape, the cape he had taken to wearing constantly in his by now justified paranoia. He looked the boy into his green, green eyes and for a moment, the numbness gave way to profound despair and sadness, which he rapidly buried again.

“I...” he started, but stumbled over his words. “...yes, it's my fault... so... so let me rectify it, even if only a little bit... let me give you a home... don't you want one? Don't you... don't you need one?”

Nico's eyes widened once again, but then narrowed to slits, “How... how do I know I can trust you?”

Tsuna felt like crying, like dropping to the floor and laughing pathetically, “You don't.” That seemed to do nothing to soothe his doubts so he went for the easy way instead, “Look, I'm going home now. If you want to come, just follow. If not, then stay here.” With that, he turned around ans started walking back to where he came from.

“He could be a spy.” the former Arcobaleno appeared at his side out of nowhere, but Tsuna was used to it by now.

“I know.” he said, and the minuscule smile on his face shone with a sincerity the tutor had missed dearly, “But I don't care.”

Reborn eyed him suspiciously, “Why?”

Why. Why? Why, hm, why. He didn't know. He really didn't.

“Because there's something about him.” his lips formed the words before he had processed them, but he didn't mind.

Absently, he noticed the sound of light, hurried steps behind him.

* * *

 

“I can too!”

He sighed, “Haru...”

“No. I know I'm still in training, but our numbers are dangerously low and half our allies have their own problems to deal with. You need everyone you can get at the next raid so I'm coming too.”

“Haru, I don't want-”

“Me to get killed?” she completed his sentence bemusedly, “Well, Earth to Tsuna! You can't afford to protect me like that. There's other people who need protection and now I'm finally capable of doing that protecting-”

“But I'm not letting you go to the front lines!” he almost yelled, frantically trying to reason with her, “Have you any idea how dangerous it is?”

She scowled, “Apparently not enough to keep your closest friends away from them.”

His eyes widened and his heart froze, but he only paused for a second, “Someone has to be on the front lines and we're the strongest in the Vongola.”

Her scowl deepened, “But not all the time! Why do you think I'm offering? Tsuna, you and the others have been fighting constantly since the start of the war. You need _rest_. And I'm powerful in my own right, even if I've only been training for some months. You _know_ that.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose, “I know, Haru, I really do. But we need you here, in intelligence and information. You're pretty much our representative to other Famiglie by now.”

She sighed resignedly, “Fine... but Tsuna, stop disappearing like that the whole time. Whatever you're doing out there, it's not good for you. And it's dangerous, you know that. Anyone could catch sight of you.”

His eyes softened, “I know, Haru.”

“And- and you really need to rest. More than anyone else. You're always on the main battlefield and you keep using those flames that we _told_ you not to use unless as a last resort but apparently ignoring us seems to be your life mission and... and...” a tear ran down her cheek and Tsuna quickly wiped it with his thumb. She gazed up at him, eyes watery and filled with pain. “...stop hurting yourself, Tsuna. _Please_.”

A flash of grief crossed his eyes but was gone just as quickly as he squeezed her shoulder in reassurance that he himself did not believe, “I'll... I'll try.”

She kept her gaze on him for a moment before dropping it and shaking her head in melancholic exasperation. He took this moment of silence to try and cheer her up, “But hey, today I actually found something interesting today. Someone, actually. Want to meet him?”

She looked up again, eyes wide and uncomprehending, and yelped when he pulled her along by her arm, making him chuckle slightly. “Tsu- tsuna! Wha-”

But she didn't get the chance to ask as they arrived in front of a door. A door to a guest room. A guest room she'd thought was unused. Tsuna promptly knocked, “It's Tsuna. I'm coming in.” And he opened the door.

The sight that met her was that of a short, dark-haired, olive-skinned boy with dim yet curious, green eyes. His hair was somewhat wet, presumably from washing, and he looked wholly uncomfortable in the new looking white shirt and black jeans he was wearing.

She couldn't help but squeal in delight, partly going back to her old habits, when she saw the adorable, young boy. Her fingers twitched to hug him, but she restrained herself, looking towards Tsuna in inquiry.

He chuckled, this time a bit more heartfelt, “His name's Nico. He pretty much followed me here. Nico, this is Haru, a friend of mine.”

Nico's wary gaze slid towards her and she deflated at the sheer suspicion in his eyes. Still, she smiled at him in what she hoped was a welcoming way. “Hello Nico. Say, how old are you?”

His posture relaxed somewhat when there was no sign of hostility and he answered with only slight reluctance. “I'm... eight, I think. Maybe nine.”

Haru blinked, “You think?”

He shrugged, apparently uncomfortable with the situation, “Mom never really told me. She was too busy.”

“Too busy...” she frowned, “No parent should be too busy to even tell their child their age.” At this point Tsuna tried to stop her, but he was too late and the words were already out of her mouth. “What does your mom do? Where is she?”

He almost facepalmed when the boy tensed, refusing to meet her eyes. He was about to say something to try and defuse the situation when Nico unexpectedly answered, “...she was a... prostitute... I think...”

They both stared wide eyed, not really knowing what to say. “Oh...” was the only word she could utter, the meaning of the past tense in his blunt statement most definitely not lost on her. The boy shifted uncomfortably under their gazes while they tried wrap their heads around his apparent dismissal of both his mother's... choice of work and her current state.

It was not natural for a kid to be so nonchalant about the death of a parent, was it? Unless... unless said parent hadn't been much of a parent to begin with. Tsuna winced inwardly at the thought, “Hey, Nico. Now that you're all clean, would you like to eat something? You must be starving.” he tried to divert the conversation to safer grounds.

Nico looked down at his stomach with a slight wince before looking back up, “Um, sure.”

Tsuna smiled sadly at his inability – refusal – to admit any weakness, a sign of a harsh life in an unforgiving world, and led him towards the kitchen along with Haru, who was still silently berating herself for her slip-up.

As they entered the kitchen five minutes later, he managed to sneak the boy a bread roll, telling him that dinner would be soon anyways and he was to sit with them when he gave him a reluctantly disappointed look. They would sit at the table with the rest of with his family as they always did. Meals on the few days when everyone was here and not fighting or out on a mission were seen as sacred, moments in which they could eat together just like before and pretend the world wasn't falling apart around them.

Well, everyone except for Kyouya. He had decided to stay in Namimori after the initial attack, a decision which had been proven correct only days later, when a large armed group had assaulted the town. Had it not been for the, at the time, still developing Foundation and the presence of its leader, he had no doubt Namimori would be an agonizing memory today. The interrogation of a few of the defeated men had revealed that they had been after hostages or, if that proved too difficult, an emotional blow. Neither had worked of course, but that hadn't stopped Scoglio from attempting to do so multiple times after the first failure.

Their plans were getting better at an alarming rate and he couldn't quite catch up.

It was terrifying.

But Kyouya was there, as was his dad. They would be okay. They would be alright.

A part of him tried to point out that he was only ignoring the problem because he had far bigger issues at hand right here in Italy and that it wouldn't make the faraway problems go away just like that. He ignored it.

_They would be alright_ .

He looked around, at Haru, at Nico, at the kitchen staff that seemed as worn as the fighters on the battlefield.

They would be alright.

He was snapped out of his musings by a familiar voice coming from outside the kitchen. “Ah, so he's in there? What a surprise. Thank you, Rob. And I'll be sure to tell her, don't worry.”

The door then opened to reveal a weary, old man with a grandfatherly smile that always seemed to lift his spirits whenever he saw it. He smiled back, “Grandpa.”

“Tsunayoshi. Signorina Haru.” he greeted. Haru grinned, if not as brilliantly as before then at least brilliant enough to make her face glow with warmth.

“Hello, Timoteo-san. How are your injuries?”

The smile dimmed slightly, “They're doing well enough. The cuts are already sealed.”

“That's good to hear.”

At that moment, a short, plump woman, part of the kitchen staff judging by her uniform, handed him a cup of coffee (Tsuna had refused his).

“Ah, thank you, Rosa. This is just what I needed.” He took a long sip and then turned towards the younger Boss. “I wanted to talk to you, Tsunayoshi.”

“Sould we go sit down or...?”

Another sip, “No, nothing like that. It's short. Your Mist, Chrome, she's awake.”

His eyes widened, “Chrome's woken up?” Haru listened in quietly, eyes just as wide, “How-”

“I happened to be there when her eyes opened. She's been awake for fifteen minutes or so.”

Tsuna winced inwardly. Timoteo had probably not so much happened to be there than he had been there for a while now. Coyote had been critically injured in the last battle and the former Boss hadn't left his side at the hospital wing ever since. He could tell by the dark rings under his eyes.

Chrome was there for another reason though. Ever since her collapse on the battlefield, shortly after her operation, she had gone into a sort of coma, which she kept slipping in and out of. Normally she only lasted two minutes awake, so this case probably meant that she was awake for good this time. It made his chest suddenly feel lighter, if only the slightest bit.

Timoteo then made to put his cup down on a small table only for it to slip out of his grasp and crash on the hard floor.

Startled, Tsuna looked at him, pale, eyes haunted and frozen in place, and followed his line of sight.

He was staring at Nico, who looked decidedly uncomfortable with the attention, standing alone in a corner with half a bread roll in his hands.

Then, in a hoarse whisper, Timoteo spoke.

“...Federico?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ahaha whoops. seems i forgot to upload this one. hehe~ so with this we've caught up and the next chapter still isn't finished and I'm sorr pls don' kill me thnx bye


	18. Remorse

Timoteo di Vongola, Ninth Don of the Vongola Famiglia, once had three sons.

The eldest son, Enrico di Vongola, had been, unsurprisingly, the prime heir of his father's throne. Of a reckless heart and a wild soul, he had often left Vongola grounds in the middle of the night, sometimes taking his brothers with him, to see what the red lit nights filled with passion and violence could offer. It was in one of these nights that a small brawl had developed into an all-out gunfight and he was killed with his own pistol.

The second son, Massimo di Vongola, had been more calm than fiery, more calculating than hot-blooded. A favourite of many allies and a fan of order and responsibility himself, he had been the hard-working brother anyone could rely on – and many did. It was while doing an errand for his father that he was kidnapped and betrayed by an ally, left to sleep with the fish due to a miscalculation.

The youngest son, Federico di Vongola, while a candidate for Decimo on paper, had not really been considered for the position before the death of his two older brothers – except by Timoteo himself, that is. He had been the gentle one, the man nobody saw as a threat until you hurt one of his own and suddenly there was blood in the air. Of a peaceful, easy-going nature, the youngest had lasted the longest by far out of all three brothers, but he did not escape his fate either. Years after his sudden disappearance, his bones were found at a rundown shack close by. No one ever found out what had really happened.

None of them had managed to procure any heirs, leading to the discovery of Primo's long lost heir.

Or at least, that's what they had thought.

Thinking about it, Timoteo had said, Enrico had often dragged a mostly unwilling Federico along to his nightly trips. It was no stretch of the imagination that the youngest might have decided one night to enjoy himself instead of futilely trying to escape his brother's clutches.

That they had never found out about the result of this one night was understandable, since this had probably taken place not long before Enrico's untimely death and the subsequent chaos. But why Federico and not Enrico himself, who had been far more likely to accidentally impregnate one of the many women he had spent his nights with?

Simply said, the kid looked exactly like his (probably) father, to the point that Timoteo had momentarily thought he was seeing the de-aged ghost of his youngest son. Now all that was left was to confirm their suspicions.

Now, if only Tsuna could actually manage to do that.

Not only was he jittery with excitement and impatience because _goodness gracious Chrome was awake and well and he needed to see her_ , but Nico utterly refused to get anywhere near a needle. Which was unfortunate seeing as a needle was most definitely needed in the process of taking a blood sample for a DNA test.

“I've seen people with needles,” he'd vehemently tried to defend his cause, “they go crazy, get violent and die alone in a ditch. I'm not getting anywhere near those things!”

Had it been any other time, Tsuna would have taken pity on him and tried to verbally ease him into the idea or even outright let him go for a time. It was not, however, any other time. Chrome was waiting barely a room away from him and he wanted to get this over with quickly. As such, he nodded in understanding and firmly ordered the medic to take some blood from him first, leaving no room for arguments or questions. To his credit, the young man did as he was told without much pause and soon enough their was a half-filled needle sticking out of his arm for Nico to stare at in morbid fascination.

“See?” he asked, breaking him out of his reverie, “I'm not crazy, not aggressive and most certainly not dead. We're not going to inject anything into you, merely take some blood for some tests.” he argued, absently wondering when he had started using the fancy wording usually reserved for official meetings in his day to day life. 'Merely'? What was he, a professor?

Nico stared at his face for a moment longer before apparently coming to a decision, albeit reluctantly. Slowly, as if not quite sure of his actions, he stretched his arm out towards the medic and turned his head the other way in adamant refusal to witness what he probably felt would be a small massacre. Tsuna tried placing his hand on his shoulder in a surprisingly successful attempt to calm the boy down. Some of the tension left his shoulders and his face wasn't scrunched up as tightly anymore.

For his part, Nico waited. And waited. And waited. And wai-

“Stick it in already!” he almost shouted in annoyance, not quite able to hide the undertone of fear in his voice.

Tsuna chuckled good-naturedly along with the medic, “It's already over, Nico.”

The boy quickly turned to assess his arm in disbelief, then to them, “But I didn't feel anything. Aren't you supposed to feel... _something_ when you get a needle poked into your arm?”

The young man, already putting the equipment away, smiled mischievously, “Not necessarily. There's people like me who can do it without you ever noticing.”

Nico looked at him, then back at his arm, then back at him, not quite knowing what to say. Thankfully, he was saved from having to say anything by Tsuna, “Well, now that that's over with, I wanted to go see a friend. Do you want to come?”

Nico hesitated but then shook his head, “No, I'll go back to... to m-my room.” the words came out awkwardly, feeling foreign in his mouth. He had his own room. A huge room. In a huge mansion. Full of really weird people (who were nonetheless a lot better than everyone he had ever met in the streets). He even had his own bathroom and an enormous bed. It was _weird_.

But not unwelcome.

Such were the thoughts that plagued his mind as he walked down corridor after corridor to the room he had been assigned, years of scouring streets and running away from angry vendors ensuring that he'd subconsciously memorized the route – even if had to go through the kitchen to get there.

Once in his room, he found a pair of pyjamas folded neatly on his bed. He guessed he was supposed to change into those before going to bed. He ran a hand along the fabric, which was probably the softest piece of physical matter he had ever gotten his hands on. Geez, rich people had it good.

While changing and crawling into the impossibly big bed (yes, it was really early but he was also really, really tired), he realized that technically, he was one of these rich people now too.

Already feeling the clutches of sleep clawing at his consciousness after such a long day, he secretly hoped he wouldn't wake up to a dirty alley and the bitter remains of a sweet dream.

* * *

 

Chrome had just managed to sit up on her bed when Tsuna burst into the room.

“Chrome!”

“B-boss...?”

Belatedly, he realized that both Takeshi and Hayato were also in the room, not to mention a rather startled Haru. Further inspection revealed that he had nearly hit Ryohei in the the face whilst opening the door. Rubbing the back of his head sheepishly, he turned back to Chrome. “You're awake! Thank Kami!” he exclaimed as he moved forward without thinking and wrapped his arms around the fragile girl.

Chrome only sat there, wide-eyed and having absolutely no idea what she was supposed to do. Soon enough, Tsuna realized what he was doing and quickly pulled back, though his hands remained on her shoulders and he gave her a partly embarrassed, partly relieved smile.

“I'm sorry. It's just... it's been a while. I'm glad you're back for good now.” he said, eyes suddenly finding the wall behind her rather interesting, “We've... lost a lot of people, Chrome. I... we didn't want to lose you too.”

She blinked, gaze moving to her hands on her lap, “For how long...?”

Tsuna focused on her again, eyes softening, “It's been almost three months since the first battle with Scoglio.”

Chrome's hands tightened to fists, “Th-three months?” she asked weakly. Had she really been out for the count for that long? For three months, she'd been lying here, absolutely useless, while everyone else was out on the battlefield-

_It was redredredred. The ground painted crimson, the air sprayed scarlet. A lone trident lied on the ground._

A memory suddenly pushed those thoughts away and she looked up sharply, “Mukuro-sama. Where's Mukuro-sama?”

Tsuna didn't seem the least bit surprised at the question. “He's alright.” he was as well as the rest of them, at least, “He healed rather quickly from his injuries. Right now he's out on a scouting mission.” Her fists loosened a fraction in blatant relief and he smiled, “Still, he's probably going to be furious that he wasn't here when yOU wOKe Up-” his eyes widened and a stark blush spread across his cheeks as he quickly covered his mouth with one hand.

Chrome stared a him for a moment before she started suppressing a bout of giggles. The glare he gave her in return, while without any actual heat, was filled with petty betrayal. He ignored the unsubtle snickers behind him as he sighed, “I-it happens sometimes. It's no a big deal.”

“I thought you were over that?” she asked more than stated.

He scowled, “So did I.”

“People don't usually get so embarrassed about it though.” she almost teased.

His scowl deepened. “It... doesn't happen that often. I think my body's crazy, I goes through puberty a lot more weirdly than everyone else's.” the last part was muttered under his breath.

A moment of awkward silence passed before Hayato cleared his throat, “Uh, I need to go check on our weapons stock as you requested, Tsuna-sama.” he looked back at Chrome with the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips, “It's... nice having you back.”

“Maa, I should go too. See you later Chrome.” he said with his trademark grin as he followed the Storm out of the room.

Tsuna smiled, “Until dinner, you two. Takeshi, make sure Hayato actually comes up for dinner, would you?”

A laugh echoed through the hall outside the room, “Will do!”

He turned back to the bed only to meet an intense, purple stare, “...something wrong?”

Chrome caught herself and blushed slightly, “Uhm, well, you, them, names, I uh...”

It took a moment for Tsuna to decipher what she actually wanted to say from her halting, bunched up words, “Oh! You mean how we addressed each other?” he smiled sheepishly, “Well, a while ago Takeshi convinced me to call him by his given name and when Hayato found out... at least I got him to drop the Juudaime. Still working on that -sama though.”

“Oh.” she looked down, blush of embarrassment still not going away, “Is that so?”

Tsuna tilted his head in confusion, trying to understand her attitude and failing miserably at it. Haru sighed, jabbed him in the ribs and whispered a word or two into his ear, leaving him slightly wide-eyed in understanding as she leaned back on the wall again.

“You know, Chrome, you don't have to call me Boss.” she looked up and he continued, “I mean, I never even wanted you to call me Boss. I'd rather my friends call me Tsuna.” His smile, tired and slightly world-weary as it seemed to constantly be nowadays, seemingly to lit up the entire room.

“A-are you sure?”

“Of course!”

She smiled a tiny smile that made the paleness of her skin and the bags under her eyes suddenly a lot less noticeable.

They spent the next thirty minutes like that, talking about trivial subjects with the occasional input from Haru or Ryohei. For thirty short minutes, Tsuna felt light again, like there was no war to be fought, no imminent threat of battle looming over them, no lives that had been lost under his command, no harm that could come to him and his loved ones.

But then she inquired about the state of the war and his blissful ignorance was blown away.

She wanted to help out in the battlefield.

Tsuna wouldn't allow that.

Ryohei wouldn't allow that.

But she was his Mist! She was supposed to be helping out.

She had just woken up from a comma. She was still recuperating!

Her flames were what was important, and they were perfectly fine!

But she was _not_!

She couldn't just sit around doing _nothing_!

Yes, she could and she _would_!

No!

It was an order!

All his frustration, all of the failures weighing down on him, all the pressure to win the war, to protect what was his, it all came pouring out. He would _not_ have her out fighting when she was supposed to stay in bed and _recuperate_.

He lost his temper.

That was the first time Tsuna saw Chrome angry. It was also the first time he saw her cry.

As he stormed out of the room, Ryohei hesitantly going out as well, if only to get away from the incredible tension in there, the thought occurred to him that he was the reason for those tears and it made his heart clench in many painful ways.

Inside the room, a horrified Haru was holding a crying Chrome in her arms, desperately trying to console her. She knew how the other girl felt, she felt like that every single day. Helpless, useless, having power but being unable to use it. But she had never been rebuked as harshly as Chrome. In fact, she didn't think she had ever seen Tsuna so destructively _angry_ before (the glimpse she had gotten with Ala Bianca had been darker and far colder than this boiling fury), and just because Chrome wouldn't stop insisting that she should be on a battlefield at that!

The girl's uncharacteristical anger had also come as a surprise from the usually mild-mannered Guardian. She could guess at the reason though. A mix of restlessness of her flames, frustration stemming from her long absence and apparent uselessness and the fact that she had always been asked rather than denied to join the battlefield, even when she had been about to die from her lack of organs.

After several minutes, the sobs subsided, but the iron grip on her blouse remained.

“Haru-chan.” said girl startled, surprised at the steely note in her voice, “You told me you started training before Bo- Tsu- he came here.”

Haru stared for a moment, then cautiously spoke, “...I did.”

Chrome raised her head to meet Haru's gaze with her own nearly glowing stare, flames blazing in her eyes. “Please let me train with you.”

Haru's eyebrows threatened to fly off with how high they were, “But I don't have Mist flames.”

The one-eyed girl shook her head vigorously, “I don't care.”

Haru gulped, “Not that I particularly want to agree with Tsuna in this instance, but you do need to rest, Chrome.”

The grip on both her blouse and her wrist tightened, then relaxed, slightly trembling hands falling onto her lap, “I... I know. I shouldn't have... I'm not... I-I'll get some rest. I'll do whatever the medics tell me to do.” her stare bored into her, “But when I'm released...”

After a moment's thought, a borderline feral grin spread across Haru's lips, “They'll never know what hit 'em.”

* * *

 

Vongola Decimo stalked down the hallways of his mansion, feeling conflicted but mostly feeling like a complete and utter moron. Why had he lost his temper like that? Chrome did nothing to deserve that!

Was it because she'd been so insistent? He could understand that she wanted to pull her own weight, but she had to rest. He would not, _could_ not risk her safety so carelessly. Yes, this was a war, and yes, they were low on manpower, and yes, Chrome was rather powerful in her own right – she was his Guardian after all – but she had just woken up from an irregular comma. She had not moved in nearly three months. She wasn't ready for battle!

But... no, Haru was just as insistent on a daily basis, sometimes even more so. What made them different? What about Chrome made him worried to the point of anger? Why was this all so damn complicated? Why couldn't this war just be over with so nobody had to fight anymore?!

He caught himself at the last thought. No, there was a reason for that. It wasn't time, not yet. There were things that still needed to fall into place before this could all finally end. Things like-

“Decimo!” he turned around to see one of his men, running up to him, “Boss, an enemy has been spotted on our territory!”

He frowned, “On our own turf? Where exactly? And how many?”

The man seemed uncertain, “Uh, just one. We found him near the northern border.”

He raised an eyebrow, “One? Only one person? What would they possibly want to accomplish alone in enemy territory? Are you sure it's not just some random civilian?”

“Yes, Boss. He has been identified as Argento Terzo, Cassiano Boggio.”

His insides froze.

No.

Nonononononononononononononononononononono-

It was too early.

_Far_ too early.

What was this?

What happened?

Without paying any more attention to his subordinate, he ran off to the main entrance of the mansion, the northern gate. He ran and ran through halls and corridors until any pretence of civilized behaviour left him and he opened the nearest window and jumped out, propelling himself before he could fall more than a meter or so.

He headed north, pushing himself to go as far as his flames would allow and straining his eyes to their limit trying to catch any hint of human presence on the ruined landscape. Finally, he spotted a small group of people as he got close the end of the Vongola's definite territory.

Getting closer, he could make out several men standing in front and around another one. Blond, lying on the ground seemingly heavily wounded. He was about to sigh in relief as he recognized him when he noticed the gun in one of the standing men's raised hand – pointing directly at the fallen figure.

“Stop!”

No reaction.

“STOP!”

They couldn't hear him.

He was too far away.

He wouldn't make it in time.

The blond man closed his eyes.

_BANG!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'M ALIVE SUCKAS! whoo!
> 
> this is a bit short (sorry about that) even with all the unplanned stuff that somehow made it into this chapter, and also very, very late (really sorry about that). but hey, chrome's awake and now we know for sure who exactly Nico is. yeah, that whole tsuna-chrome drama... that was so not planned. at all.
> 
> And look! It's Cassiano! ...or not anymore.
> 
> Well, at least I hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	19. Life is a Matter of Perspective

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> imsorryitssolateandshortpleasedontkillme

Witnessing a horrifying scene from afar, hiding behind some bushes was a small, blond boy. He shouldn't be here, in Vongola territory. He knew that. Even though the Vongola and the Spada were allies, the bond was only tentative.

He watched, startled, as _that man_ limped into Vongola turf. Wasn't he an enemy? What was he doing here?

He watched as his wounds brought him down to the ground.

He watched as three men threatened _that man_.

He watched as one cocked a gun and he wanted to run and stop them – _that man_ was important, he was important!

He closed his eyes as an ominous bang seemed to echo through his skull.

And he ran. He ran. Back to the Spada. Back to Madame. Madame Vivianne needed to know.

Her beloved was dead. But not just by Vongola's doing, oh no. He had seen all those wounds, all that dirt. _That man_ looked like he had been chased, hunted like a fox. _That man_ , who always had someone of his family by his side, had been alone. And Vongola had all the right to shoot him in that situation.

No, no, the blame did not lie with the executioner. It lied with those who had driven him there.

Madame Vivianne needed to know.

Her beloved was dead.

And the Scoglio was to blame.

* * *

 

“Stop!”

No reaction.

“STOP!”

They couldn't hear him.

He was too far away.

He wouldn't make it in time.

The blond man closed his eyes.

And he pulled and pulled out of the very centre of his flames until warmth turned to cold and Sky turned to Night.

A small portal appeared right in front of the downed man's face. Another appeared beside the assailant's cheek.

_BANG!_

The man dropped the gun as he doubled over, holding his bleeding ear in agony.

A shadow appeared beside him.

“B-b-boss! Ah! I, uh-”

The brunet didn't even look at him as he spoke, approaching the now gaping man lying on the floor. “Get yourself to the hospital wing. Your ear was just grazed, you'll survive.” He couldn't quite tell if his tone of voice was flat or sarcastic and he promptly decided he didn't want to know.

“Argento.” greeted Tsuna, standing above the other.

“Vongola.” replied a deep raspy voice.

Tsuna sighed and offered up his hand, “You look like shit.”

Cassiano stared at the hand for a moment before taking it, trying to stand on wobbly legs which just ended up with him leaning on the other for support, “Feel like it too.”

“What happened?”

“...I...”

“ _What happened,_ Boggio?”

A deep breath, “I've got your Intel.”

The look Tsuna gave him was a cross between anger, annoyance, shock and exasperation. “Why so early? You told me it would take you at least another month.” the look morphed into an accusatory glare.

He tried to shrug, but aborted the movement with a wince, “Shit happens. I fucked up.”

“And your family?”

“...”

Tsuna shook his head, crouching, and took off into the air with not a warning, suddenly holding him over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. As Cassiano yelped in surprise, he could have sworn the brunet was smirking in amusement, even if he couldn't see him. Soon enough, they reached a familiar building and entered through a window.

“I've got a patient for you!” Tsuna exclaimed, depositing his burden on a white, sterile bed.

Not long after later, a missive from Scoglio arrived, apparently meant for Cassiano.

* * *

 

Cassiano Boggio was many things.

For most, he was the Boss of the Argento Famiglia. He was a cunning man, a sly fox in a den of snakes. He was athletic and rather well toned, if he did say so himself. He was caring and gentle towards those he cared for the most, sometimes even downright soft. He was filled to the brim with regrets he had refused acknowledge for years and decades.

He was also a very lucky man.

Lucky to be alive that is.

His plan had been so well crafted, so elusively perfect in all of its fictive, untried glory; even if his motivations hadn't been all that clear to anyone, himself included (not that many even knew there was a plan at all, so many simply thought he had given in to the pressure and made the sensible decision to join the side most likely to win). He didn't really know why he was doing this, not quite – never mind what he had told Vivianne on that melancholic night tinged with regret.

Oh sure, the kid's- ah, pardon, Vongola's plans for the future seemed to shine so brightly that hope apparently found the need to rise without his permission. They were idealistic and bright and innocent and so stupidly naïve that he didn't know what to do with himself. So many years of sticking to old dogmas and the wills of men long dead, so many years of giving up his own dreams to make place for countless responsibilities, and suddenly someone held out a shining light and he found himself a fumbling mess of emotions.

And on a quiet, half drunken afternoon, he had made a decision. A decision he was still hoping would not bring him even more regrets later on. Call it his way of repenting or his route for escape, whatever it was, he took it.

And of course he had to take the complicated path. _Of course_. It wouldn't be _fun_ otherwise, would it? No, no, that would be too easy.

And so we come back to the plan, the beautiful plan, the gorgeous plan, the plan he had entrusted the lives of his family to.

The plan that had not, in any way, shape or form, survived contact with the enemy.

Yeah, _that_ plan.

He still wondered how he had managed to get out of that one alive. Oh the circumstances were very clear to him, they had made sure of that, but he still couldn't wrap his head around it.

Osmondo Razza did not take well to betrayal. He _knew_ that. The man had never been the forgiving type, well, for the most part at least.

Perhaps we should rewind a bit.

It all started with an offer. An offer made secretly within the confines of the Vongola Don's office. In simple terms, he had offered himself up as a spy.

“I will gather information for you. The layout of the mansion, the security systems, their numbers. And then I'll hightail it out of there with my family without anyone being the wiser. I come to your side, my family is back in safety and you have all you need for a full-out frontal assault. I think it's a nice deal.”

“No! I don't approve of this!”

Of course, the younger Boss had been rather apprehensive. He had expected that. The guy didn't want more people taking risks than absolutely necessary, he just didn't want anyone hurt. Cassiano could help with that, and now that he had made up his mind, nobody could stop him.

“No one asked for your opinion, really.”

“Argento-”

“This is my choice. Not much you can do about it.”

“But-!”

“Vongola, _please_. You can't just decide everything on your own.”

“I... do you really want to do this?”

He still remembered the look he had given the boy as he nodded, all icy demeanour and determined stares.

“...very well. Do this at your own risk.”

“Don't tell anyone.” He was now a spy after all, couldn't have too many people knowing, lest something slip into the wrong ear.

“I can't just-”

“Don't tell _anyone_ , Vongola. I'm warning you.”

The sigh that followed had been momentous and just the slightest bit worrisome. “Just... go.”

“Of course. I'll send your greetings to Razza.” He had drawled, smirk firmly in place.

A huffed half hearted laugh. “Do what you want.”

Thus the deal was sealed.

And back to the plan we come.

Of course, it couldn't go as smoothly as that. First of all, he needed actual access to said information. He had estimated the time needed to prove his trustworthiness in order to worm his way into Scoglio's little circle to be a couple of months. His later estimate had been a little longer.

He had intended to take it slowly, step carefully. But the quickly escalating horrors of the war were getting to him, building up pressure. And then there were the rumours. Those had only sprung up much later, but they spread like wildfire. Vague uneasiness had turned into full blown suspicion and distrust in a matter of weeks. He had not considered this possibility, and it had majestically snowballed on him.

So he gave in to the pressure, he acted early, he made a mistake. He was caught in the act – or, more precisely (and fortunately) _after_ the act – they knew about the stolen password (but they never knew about the USB stick).

And how stupid of him to not prepare for such a possibility. It was a beginner's mistake, honestly. His granduncle Giulio would have given him a good smack over the head had he been there. His rashness led him to a bad move.

He tried to warn his Famiglia, get them to the safe house he had prepared. He tried to flee himself.

Fleeing is hard with a bullet in each leg.

But he managed somehow (“It's that Argento blood of yours!” granduncle Giulio had once said, “It keeps you movin' forward!” And his sister Daria, his Rain, had wholeheartedly agreed).

His family on the other hand...

Cassiano Boggio was a lucky man.

Lucky that he survived.

Lucky that he had once saved the life of a man with high standing.

Lucky that said man always repaid his debts, even if it went against his nature.

Lucky that said man had not yet had an opportunity to do so.

Lucky that the slaughter of his fleeing family in all the different alliance bases had been stopped midway, the survivors serving as a warning for next time: there should be no next time.

Lucky that the absolute downfall of his so carefully crafted plan hadn't meant the death of all he loved, only their imprisonment.

This luck wouldn't serve him well in gambling, but as long as it kept Scoglio honour bound to keep most of his family alive, he was quite content with that – as long as he kept from thinking about how badly he'd fucked up and how his carelessness had almost cost him absolutely everything, that is.

(He was never going to step foot in a casino again. He'd had enough gambling for a lifetime.)

And he also considered himself rather lucky to have lived past that rather special encounter once he had reached Vongola turf.

Honestly, it still left him rather dumbfounded.

Wasn't he _shot_?

* * *

 

“Tsuna-sama! I don't get it! Why are we harbouring the enemy?”

“Yeah, Tsuna, what's this about?”

Tsuna sighed before fishing a USB stick out of his pocket and holding it up for his Guardians to see, “Because of this.”

Hayato frowned and Takeshi blinked. Ryohei just looked on blankly. All three reactions were well expected by now. He sighed again.

“Casssiano Boggio was acting as a spy for us. He risked his safety and that of his family to get us some vital information. It's all in here.” He laid the stick down on his desk for emphasis. All three pairs of eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. He spoke up before they could start the questioning, “He and I were the only ones who knew of this.”

“B-but... the war... we've been fighting...!” Takeshi sounded as tortured as Tsuna himself felt.

“I know. I... for all intents and purposes, we were enemies all this time until he brought us this. You did nothing wrong in fighting the Argento. This... it was one of the conditions he set, so as not to arouse suspicion.”

Hayato looked at him inquisitively, “What... what about the rest of the Argento Famiglia? The only one here is the Terzo himself.”

At that, Tsuna's demeanour turned grim, “Almost half of them were killed off before Razza retracted the order. The rest are being held captive.”

A mix of relief and bewilderment danced in his eyes, “C-captive? After such a betrayal?”

Tsuna's shoulders slumped, “It's a bit complicated. Originally, we had a plan to relocate the Argento even before he switched sides so that they wouldn't get caught in the crossfire. Having an entire Famiglia with no idea which side they belong to in the following chaos would've been... bad. But something happened that made Boggio act rashly. He almost got caught, but managed to escape by himself. His Famiglia was attacked, then captured before they could make a move.”

He sighed once again. Here came the complicated part, “Apparently, Boggio saved Razza's life once several years ago and Razza honoured that debt. Since Boggio escaped, there was no way in repaying it by sparing his life, so instead he kept the rest of the Argento alive by stopping the instant slaughter that followed his betrayal. Apparently it was made widely known very quickly. Argento had no time to even warn them before the rest of the alliance immediately fell on them like rabid dogs.”

“So now they're...”

Tsuna nodded, “Hostages.”

Takeshi's fists clenched tightly, “Why... why would he...?”

At that moment, Ryohei had a rare moment of enlightenment, “It's because he trusts you... isn't it?”

Tsuna turned to him, gaze clearly revealing his surprise, “...I don't think it's warranted.”

Ryohei shook his head, “No, he went through all that just to bring you this information. He even left his Famiglia behind! That should be eating at him inside by now! It's because he trusts you, us, to get them back to the extreme! He did his part, now we do ours.”

The brunet stared at him for a moment, seemingly shocked, before his gaze turned heavy and encompassed all three of them.

“With this information, we should be able to plan a full frontal attack at their main base of operations. Then we'll get them back. Alive. And we'll end this.”

He was met with three confident grins.

Hayato opened his mouth to say something, but the atmosphere was suddenly broken when a man – one of his subordinates – appeared at the doorway, looking panicked.

“Decimo! The Spada... they... they... Scoglio...!”

Tsuna frowned, “Dorian, calm down. What happened?”

“They... the Spada, they've started an attack on the Scoglio base!”

That statement almost made him fall out of his chair, “W-w-what?! Without support? They're outnumbered. And outclassed! What in the name of Primo is the Spada Donna thinking?!”

“W-we tried contacting them. They only said something about avenging someone before they hung up.”

 _Avenging_ someone? Who would they possibly-

Tsuna was suddenly a breath away from ripping out his hair.

Of course.

Why the fuck not.

 _Of course_.

Vivianne Davois thought Cassiano Boggio was dead.


	20. Reunions

_Last time on Redemption (because I really dont want to make you read the last few chapters again just to understand this one):_

_Months after the war with the Scoglio alliance broke out, Tsuna took in an orphaned boy named Nico who turned out to be Federico di Vongola's son. Meanwhile, the Boss of Argento who had joined the Scoglio turned out to be a spy for Tsuna but was discovered prematurely, getting his Famiglia imprisoned and himself almost killed. A small spy from Spada witnessed his near-death and assumed that he was, prompting the Spada boss into attacking the Scoglio in a rage._

* * *

 

The Spada Famiglia was not the largest, nor the strongest. It was, however, renown for their skilled swordsmen and their lithe, stealthy ways – not to mention their ability to avoid the newest sword emperor indefinitely (no one wanted their sword style stolen, thank you very much).

But surprisingly enough, their pride did not lie with their swordsmanship but with their absolute loyalty. Every Spada boss had taken care to get to know their people at every opportunity. The fourth of this line, Donna Vivianne Davois, was no exception, and her Famiglia had responded in kind.

No, not Famiglia.

They were family.

So it really came as no surprise that they were willing to follow her in her quest for vengeance. They had all known of the feelings she harboured for the young Argento boss, which she had had to forsake in order to follow in her father's footsteps.

And they were all more than willing to fight for her broken heart.

The news of Cassiano Boggio's death had come as a shock, even more so when, after several minutes of sombre silence, their boss had reacted with not just grief, but divine wrath and an insatiable thirst for vengeance. A hasty plan of attack had been put together after they had made it clear that she would not go there alone.

For they would follow her always, even if she should lead them to hell itself.

And so they found themselves at Scoglio's doorstep, knocking thrice politely.

One time with swords.

One time with flames.

And one time with bloodied fists.

And as bodies were burnt and cleaved in half at their leisure, the sheer intensity of their advance overwhelming their enemy, a dark monster inside each of them revelled at the slaughter, for they were granting their lady's wishes.

The lady herself was trapped in a ferocious dance, her sword weaving through the air and anything in its path, scarlet flames surrounding her like a bloodstained halo of absolute destruction.

They would suffer. They would suffer and curse the day they were born and then they would _die_.

For this purpose and through hours of battle, she fashioned herself into a goddess of death, a harbinger of doom who cut a bloody path through the scum around her in search of their head.

And in all her godly arrogance, and single dagger escaped her notice.

All at once, it all came crashing down, her invincibility unveiled as a mere illusion and her divine punishment now only the despairing ire of a broken woman. For the shortest moment, she crouched on the floor, shoulder bleeding, reeling from the shock of reality.

That moment was enough.

Should have been enough, if not for the curved sword that deflected the second dagger.

That was not a blade belonging to her people.

Much to her further shock, the face that greeted her was a familiar one, albeit lacking its perpetual carefree smile.

What was the Vongola's Rain Guardian doing here?

At that moment her earpiece crackled and she recognized another familiar element, a voice (much too young to appear in a battlefield, and yet here they were).

“ _Davois! Do you hear me?”_

“V-vongola?! How did-”

“ _I swiped it from one of your men, but that's not important. Listen, you need to order a retreat-”_

“I will not! I will not rest until every single one of them is dead!”

“ _You don't understand-”_

Her ire was mounting with every word she heard, “I understand perfectly well, even though you might not! They killed hi-”

“ _He's not dead!”_

For a moment that lasted centuries, silence overtook their conversation. The world around her stopped in its tracks.

* * *

“ _...w-wha-what?”_

Tsuna sighed, “Argento Terzo Cassiano Boggio made it out alive, although his Famiglia was imprisoned, but they aren't currently under any threat of imminent death. He's recuperating at the Vongola mansion.”

“ _W-why...”_

“I'll explain later. For now, I need to you to order a retreat. Something's not right...”

He had expected the Spada to be almost completely decimated by the time they arrived. He had never expected for them to be one-sidedly slaughtering the enemy instead – an enemy that, including the fallen, numbered far, _far_ below what he had gathered from his Intel.

This was only a small part of the Scoglio alliance.

So where...?

A sudden call interrupted his train of thought.

“Hello?”

“ _Juudaime-sama!”_

His brow furrowed, “Hideki-san? What's wrong?”

“ _Juudaime-sama, you need to bring back the troops! Now!”_

Tsuna felt a shudder run down his back at his panicked tone. His hyper intuition was blaring in alarm and something about this situation seemed eerily familiar, almost like dejá vu...

“What happened, Hideki-san?”

“ _We're under attack!”_

He froze.

No no no no no no no no no no-

Focus! This was not the place nor the time to panic.

“Understood. We're coming.”

Something was wrong. Something didn't fit. There was _something he was missing_ -

As if hit by a bludgeon, he suddenly remembered Kyoya's recent report. The Scoglio had withdrawn from Namimori for the time being...

Everything started falling into place. The retreat, Argento's ordeal, Spada's attack, his own reaction, the suspiciously small number of enemies, the current attack... but no, that wasn't possible...

“Did he see all of this coming...?” he muttered to himself.

Snapping out of his disbelieving stupor, he pressed a finger to his headset as he started running.

“Hayato, Takeshi, Onii-san, recall all troops. Vongola headquarters is under attack!”

He prayed to any deity out there that they wouldn't be too late.

* * *

Throughout his relatively short life, Nico had been through his fair share of dangerous situations. From thieves and violent drunks to people who had lost themselves to drugs and the occasional creep or psychopath.

But none of those would ever measure up to a full frontal assault on the Vongola mansion by the Scoglio alliance.

Frankly, he was terrified.

But he knew simple fear wouldn't accomplish anything so he forced his legs to _move_ so he could find some safe corner to hide in until this was all over.

As the sounds of battle grew louder and the lump in his throat thicker, he felt himself begin to panic – when out of nowhere, something barrelled into him.

Feeling a weight lift off of him and sitting up with a groan, he came face to face with three other kids. The girl and one of the boys looked younger than him, the other boy was around his age.

As he observed them, the younger boy abruptly stood up, apparently ignoring him, “We need to find Blacky! He's probably not safe!”

“Just a moment, Lambo.” the older boy frowned and turned to look at Nico worriedly, while the girl simply stood in silence, “Are you alright?”

Not having expected the question, it took him a while to process it and think of an answer, “I-I'm fine-”

The rest of the sentence was drowned out by a deafening explosion that threw them to the ground.

Dust and debris showered them as Nico tried to regain his bearings. There was a ringing in his ears and he couldn't stand up. Slowly opening an eye, he realized the explosion had blown a hole through two walls. It was a wonder they had only been knocked down.

Through his blurry vision, he could see a person walk through the hole. Then more poured through and they immediately spotted him – spotted _them_.

Helplessly watching as they approached, his body unable to move, he felt panic seize him. This was it. He was going to die. The moment he let his guard down because someone had been generous enough to take him in.

He was going to die at the hand of some man whose face he couldn't even see properly.

As the ringing in his ears subsided, a small groan made him aware of the other three kids beside him, all in the same situation.

They probably hadn't done anything to deserve this. And yet here they were.

They were all going to die.

As this notion finally settled in his brain, the world suddenly became sharp, sharper than he had ever seen it. He could see every single bit of ash in the air, a drop of sweat on the man's neck, the shine of the pistol pointing at him. A small spark ignited in his chest.

He didn't want to die.

Something suddenly blazed inside him, roared in excitement, an inexplicable warmth spread through his body – and he could _move_.

He stood up and ducked to the left, coming at the man from the side at a speed he had never thought possible. A punch to the solar plexus and another to the nose once the man had doubled over, he moved on to the next one, vaguely registering that his hands were _on fire_.

But his momentum didn't last long. As he downed the second man, a third hit him squarely in the chest, sending him flying back to collide with the wall. As he slid down, he realized the warmth was almost gone now, reduced to a flickering spark.

He was down. This time he really couldn't move. No matter how hard he willed his pained muscles to move, there wasn't a single twitch.

It was over.

His gaze found yet another gun aimed at him. He closed his eyes. A shot resounded.

Nothing happened.

Slowly daring to open his eyes, he found something lying at his feet. White fur matted with blood. A... dog?

A strangled sob emerged beside him, “B-blacky! No! Blacky!”

A dog. The dog they had been looking for when they ran into him.

It had jumped I front of a bullet.

The man with the gun, still gaping in disbelief like most other's behind him, missed the movement in the air beside him.

The trident piercing his side, however, was very hard to miss.

Before Nico's wide eyes, a girl appeared out of nowhere, wearing a hospital gown and an eyepatch, and pulling the trident out of the man in one swift motion.

“Chrome-neechan!”

She looked back at them, “Are you guys alright?”

The older boy, who had sat up by now, nodded his head, to which she turned back to the enemy, gaze hard and trident ready, even as her breaths came in pants and her legs trembled from fatigue. There was a moment of silence, then they attacked. But she did not let them get past her, no matter how many kept pouring in, no matter how much her limbs trembled or how many blades came too close for comfort.

As it became clear that she could not keep this up for long, yet another figure appeared out of nowhere, between her and the mob, and with one mighty swing of his trident and a smirk on his lips, the whole front of the group was felled, giving the rest pause.

“Oya oya, what is this? How mean. I finally come home from a mission and this is what I find? I'll have to have a word with Tsunayoshi.” he turned to them, not in the least worried about turning his back to the enemy, and his smile softened when his gaze fell on the girl who strangely resembled him quite a bit,”I have to say, I was hoping for a more peaceful reunion.”

“M-mukuro-sama...”

His eyes softened the slightest bit, “Don't worry, my dear Chrome. I'll take care of this.”

She nodded and moved towards the kids, trident still gripped tightly.

And as Nico sat unmoving and tears trailed down Lambo's cheeks, the man with the trident made it rain scarlet.

* * *

By the time Tsuna arrived it was mostly over.

He was so, _so_ glad they had thought of a plan in case something like this happened.

The Varia had been mostly on standby for almost two months (non-stop complaints notwithstanding), remaining under the radar so the Scoglio wouldn't track their movements as closely as the rest of the Vongola.

Thus, it had taken the attacking forces completely off-guard when a large group of fresh, elite fighters thirsting for battle had suddenly joined the fray, forcing them to withdraw in their confusion and disarray not long after their arrival and minimizing Vongola's losses by quite a bit.

The Varia was definitely a force to be reckoned with.

As they arrived, a large hole in the west wing of the mansion drew his attention and, nearing it, he realized just who was there. He pushed himself as fast as he could go and arrived to two maids tending to the four children his mansion hosted. Throwing away all reason, he grabbed onto the nearest child.

“Oh my God, Nico, are you okay? No, wait you don't look okay. What happened? Are you wounded? Did they attack you? Why...”

“I just... can't move.” it almost looked like speaking each word was a herculean effort for him, “M' body... my everything hurts.” he said with a wince.

Tsuna looked at him worriedly. This almost sounded like the first time when he...

“He was so cool, Tsuna-nii!”

Tsuna turned to look at Fuuta, who aside from a couple of small bruises, didn't look hurt. “What do you mean?”

“Well, these guys blew up the wall and were about to shoot and then he suddenly stood up and took two of them out and his hands were all covered in Sky flames and then...” the boy trailed off as his mood suddenly dampened.

Before he could ponder on this information, a wail from Lambo caught his attention and he settled Nico back on the wall. The crying boy was kneeling in front of a somehow familiar...

Oh.

Oh damn.

As he went to comfort Lambo and I-pin, Fuuta sat beside Nico.

“Ne, my name is Fuuta. What's yours?”

Nico looked at him strangely before mentally shrugging and deciding he could bring out at least one word, “Nico.”

“Nico, huh?” Fuuta smiled, but it was dimmed by the tears at the corners of his eyes that he wouldn't let fall, “Ne, Nico. Let's be friends.”

The weird look grew more pronounced before he released a strangled sigh. He didn't say anything, but it wasn't a no either.

Because Tsuna had welcomed him here.

Because, for just a moment, he had wanted to protect them and not just himself.

Because the girl with the trident had looked at him the same way she looked at the other three, even though she had never met him.

Because this weird kid had just made an offer like that.

Because here maybe, just maybe, he might actually belong.

* * *

When Vivianne and her entourage caught up with the Vongola (after reprimanding her young messenger about not looking away when spying on people), she asked for directions to the hospital wing and headed directly there, not bothering to get out of other people's way as they already seemed to be doing that for her.

When Cassiano saw her the first emotion on his face was surprise.

The second amazement.

The third was horror.

When she found him the first thing she did was walk up to him.

The second punch him in the face.

The third was to kiss him.

She might have slapped him as well after that.

But amidst tears and a few colourful remarks, the relieved smiles never left their faces.

* * *

Several days after the attack, the kids held their own funeral for Blacky, and for some reason, Nico was invited.

He had just come out of a rather long conversation is Tsuna's office, where it was revealed to him that the DNA test had come out positive and that he was actually the Ninth's grandson and therefore a legitimate heir to Vongola. That the flames he had awoken were just further proof of this.

Tsuna had told him, however, that if he did not feel up to it, he could renounce this at any time and Tsuna would make sure no one pushed further.

It was all a lot to take in.

But, head of the Vongola...

He looked around, at the children he had spent the last few days with, who were noisy and moody and annoying and yet still _there_. At the girl with the trident and the other girl who seemed to love children. At Tsuna.

At the small coffin being lowered into the ground.

For some reason he couldn't even begin to comprehend, he cared about these people now, even though he barely knew them. They had given him more love and care in a week than he had received from his mother throughout his life.

_As he slid down, he realized the warmth was almost gone now, reduced to a flickering spark. He was down. This time he really couldn't move. No matter how hard he willed his pained muscles to move, there wasn't a single twitch._

If he was to become the Vongola boss, he would be trained.

He could become stronger.

And just maybe, the world might allow him to be a little bit selfish and let him keep what he had gained.

The spark became a small flame.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im so sorry im late im so sorry im late im so sorry im late the story will be endimg in three more chapters im so sorry im late


	21. In Love and War

“ _...and Shouichi is already done with the measures we discussed. We just need to hook him up locally during the attack, preferably at the start and he'll be able to deactivate most security measures in the mansion practically at the press of a button.”_

_Mukuro nodded thoughtfully, “And afterwards we just need to get him out.”_

_Tsuna nodded and Mukuro chuckled, “Really, we must be in luck, for the Scoglio to have chosen a mostly electronically controlled security system.”_

“ _Most do nowadays. They're convenient.” Tsuna looked down at his watch, “Ah! I'm sorry, I have an appointment-”_

“ _And I'll be coming with you.”_

_Tsuna glared half-heartedly at the smirk stretched on his lips. Ever since latest attack on Vongola, his Guardians had decided they would not leave him alone and that at least one of them would be by his side at all times, if not more, lest he wander off again when tensions were this high and an ambush could come at any time._

_Needless to say, it was currently Mukuro's 'shift'._

“ _Really, Mukuro. I don't think... I don't think you want to be there...”_

_The taller man raised an eyebrow, “And why, pray tell, would you think that?”_

_Tsuna rubbed the back of his neck in a sign of nervousness Mukuro had not seen in months, “I just... never mind.” he sighed in defeat, “Fine, you can come. But... don't tell me I didn't warn you.”_

_Now thoroughly intrigued, the Mist followed his Sky as they made their way to a more unused part of the east wing. Entering an unoccupied room, he watched in interest as Tsuna locked the doors before turning to face the room._

_Mukuro waited for a few seconds in confusion before speaking up, “Tsunayoshi, I really don't see how this is getting us anywh-”_

_Suddenly a chill ran down his back and a by now very familiar cold gripped his heart. It couldn't be..._

_Right in the middle of the room, a black –_ void _– portal appeared, and out stepped two ominous, cloaked figures._

“ _Greetings, Vongola Decimo.”_

* * *

Tsuna woke up with a heavy feeling of foreboding.

Oh he knew what day it was, there was no way he could forget. He probably knew better than anyone.

Sitting up on his bed in contemplation, he looked at the small glass vial on his nightstand, just like nearly every other morning. Lifting it between his fingers, he perused it for a moment. The light blue fabric inside was still frayed and discoloured, just like the day he placed the worn omamori inside. The bloodstains were still clearly visible, if darker than the day they stained the charm.

“And yet there's not a single scratch on the glass.” he muttered in mocking amusement. Or was it bemusement? He couldn't quite tell...

But today really wasn't a day to dwell in the past. He placed the vial back on the nightstand, instead grasping the silver circle that hung from his the silver chain around his neck. The orange stone shone brightly, as if to reassure him.

He smiled slightly when he remembered giving Nico one of these a few days ago. The boy had been so flustered when he had explained the meaning of these rings and he had felt the Sky inside him soar in happiness.

But today, no matter what happened, the kids would be protected.

A knock on the door caught his attention.

“Tsuna-sama!”

The smile slipped off his face as he solemnly gazed at ring one more time, then stood up.

“I'm coming, Hayato.”

Today he was going to war.

* * *

“ _I want to help.”_

_Tsuna almost sighed._

“ _Chrome...”_

_But she cut him off, “I know... I know I'm in no condition to fight. Neither on the frontlines nor as support. But... but... I want to help.”_

_She looked him directly in the eye, a steely determination in her violet orbs that made his flames reach out to hers in excitement. He restrained himself._

“ _...what do you have in mind?”_

_While her eyes remained hard, she allowed herself a small smile that Tsuna had to look away from._

“ _While Mukuro is away, I'll be the strongest mist here, weak body or not. When you guys go, I, along with all the other remaining Mists, will weave an illusion around the building and gardens to seemingly multiply the forces left behind for defence in case of strays. It's a bluff, but it might just stop any hostile parties from even attempting an attack while the main force is away.”_

_Tsuna adopted a thoughtful expression, “I hadn't thought about that, but it's actually a great idea.” His gaze turned worried, “Are you sure you can handle it?”_

“ _I can.” she declared without a moment's hesitation._

_He watched her for a moment before breaking into a small, if somewhat sombre smile, “Then I'll leave the base to you. Protect the kids, Chrome.”_

_She nodded, “I will.”_

_And as he left, she sagged in relief, acutely feeling the weakness of her limbs._

_God, she couldn't wait to train with Haru._

* * *

Illusions, as most people knew, were composed of Mist flames, which, like all other elements of the Dying Will flames, required resolve. Now, Mukuro was quite determined to finally end this war today, but as he rushed the enemy on the battlefield, unseen and unheard until it was too late to stop the life from seeping out of them, he couldn't help but harbour a seedling of doubt.

And who wouldn't, with the current predicament.

But now was not the time to think about that. This was their final stand, their first and only direct attack to Scoglio headquarters.

And it would end today.

He just hoped Tsunayoshi realized what kind of fire he was playing with.

As he felt a bullet blast past his cheek, he turned around and stabbed his trident into the gunman's forehead with incredible precision. Turning into a whirlwind of stabs and illusions, he lost himself in battle.

* * *

“ _We will start with a frontal attack with Vongola's forces.”_

_His statement was met with dumbfounded silence of for a moment until Xanxus broke it in a tone that sounded almost sincere._

“ _Are you stupid?”_

_Tsuna smiled wryly._

“ _I'd like to think I'm not.”_

“ _Now, now,” Dino interrupted, trying to keep Xanxus from actually attacking Tsuna (and Hayato from attacking Xanxus), “I think we should hear him out first.” At this he turned to the brunet, a shrewd glint in his eyes, “After all, I'm sure that's not all.”_

“ _Right. A frontal attack to draw out most of his forces to the south of the mansion. The main force will be composed of Vongola, Cavallone, Tomasso, Giglio Nero and Gesso. We will retreat slightly after a certain time to draw them out further. At this point, I'm sure various allies will come from the sides.”_

_Almost everyone frowned at that. It had become a common strategy of Scoglio's to flank their forces from both sides after tiring them out with the main force's superior numbers. It was simple, yet still rather effective. They looked at Tsuna, wondering what he'd do about this._

* * *

Ryohei gritted his teeth as he moved out of the way of a knife, throwing punch after kick after punch in an endless cycle. They were being pushed back, but that wasn't really the problem. The real trouble would start any time now...

“From the sides!”

His fists tightened even further. There it was.

As his moves turned even more ferocious, hoping to keep the newly arrived enemy forces to his right from closing in too much. He was more powerful than most of the people in this battlefield, he knew. After all he was Tsuna's Sun Guardian. But there was only so much one man could do on his own while the rest of their forces struggled not to get pushed together.

Minutes passed, fifteen, thirty, until he finally heard it.

Shouts of alarm emerged from the enemy as they were unexpectedly attacked from behind on both sides.

* * *

“ _We'll do the same. Have the Varia come from the right and the Giegue as well as Nono and his Guardians from the left.”_

“ _But wouldn't that put our main force in unnecessary danger?” Dino asked with a troubled frown, “Not only would the enemy be putting pressure on us form three sides, but our reinforcements would be furthering that pressure. We would end up caged in the middle of enemy forces.”_

_Tsuna nodded in understanding. It had been hard to come up with a solution to this problem with his Guardians, but they had managed to think of something, “This is where the Shimon come in.”_

_Enma leaned forwards, “What do you want us to do?”_

* * *

The enemy forces started to scatter, but also to surround them further.

But that didn't matter.

Unable to suppress a fierce grin, Ryohei threw himself into the fray with renewed vigour.

“EXTREMELY BRING IT ON!”

They were being herded together, he knew that. But it was only a matter of time. For now, they would endure, as they had done so many times.

The shouts of alarm grew louder from both sides. The Vongola forces, realizing they were being corralled, fought even harder to keep an opening. The Scoglio on the other hand, thought they might have been hallucinating.

Were those boulders floating?

The Scoglio offensive was suddenly ruptured by spikes of ice and mirages of sand and an alarming lack of gravity.

In the middle of the Vongola forces, red eyes narrowed in concentration. “Adelheid, how is it going on the left?”

“ _Well enough. They're scattering and they're rather unfamiliar with Sand too so we're keeping them confused. Shitt-P is... somewhere.”_

Enma sighed. Yeah, Shitt-P was always _somewhere_.

“Good. Keep it up. We need to empty out the base as much as possible so Davois can do her job.”

With a hint of pride that made his cheeks look momentarily as crimson as his hair, she responded, _“Understood.”_

With that he focused back on the battle. Now, exactly how high did he need to lift people before he dropped them again...?

* * *

“ _Since you weren't able to join as many battles, having been helping in bolstering the defences of Namimori and nearby towns while the Foundation grew, the Shimon are a rather unknown element for Scoglio, not to mention powerful. I want you to enter the battle at this point. Jump right to the middle and push the enemy outwards, right into the hands of our flanking forces. Since most in Scoglio have never even heard of Earth elemental flames, let alone witnessed them first hand, the shock will be helpful and you'll have less resistance.”_

_Enma nodded in thought, knowing full well how useful the element of surprise could be, “So then the enemy will be forced to bring out more of their forces to prevent us from breaking in.”_

“ _Exactly. At this point I want some of the Spada and Shouichi to sneak into the building. We already have a detailed map of the place thanks to Cassiano Boggio so after Shouichi manages to deactivate the security and override any fail-safes you will head directly for the imprisoned Argento. Join up with anyone who is able to fight in this group and attack the Scoglio from the inside. All the members of Argento who are not able or willing to fight will be escorted back outside along with Shouichi. I want them as far away from the frontlines as possible.”_

_Vivianne nodded in acknowledgement._

* * *

“So that's what happened,” the old man mused as they moved through the hallways of the Scoglio base, going back to the exit they had secured. He laughed. “Figures. I was surprised that brat Cassiano joined this band of thugs just like that. But a spy! Hah!”

Daria smiled as the walked, holding her broken arm tightly so as not to jostle it, “Unexpected, huh? He didn't even tell me. I mean come on, I'm his Rain! Not to mention his _sister_.”

“But getting himself caught like that! A good cuff over the head is what awaits him when this is over.”

“Don't be too hard on him, granduncle Giulio.”

The Spada member that was leading the non-combatant Argento group and Irie Shouichi out of the danger zone smiled to himself. He had overheard many a conversation between his lady and Boggio in which he never ceased to complain about his by now infamous granduncle Giulio.

For scaring the lady like that, he hoped it was a hard cuff to the head.

Hearing a commotion up ahead, he turned left instead. A little detour was in order if he really wanted to keep this group out of the fighting. Especially if that chaos stemmed, as he was starting to suspect, from Vongola and his Guardians. If that was the case, then he definitely didn't want to get caught up in that.

* * *

“ _To shorten the battle as much as possible, once the Argento are freed, my Guardians and I will force our way into the base to look for Razza, since he never shows his face in the battlefield. The faster we take out the leader, the sooner it will be over.”_

_There was a moment of silence once again, although it was not of disbelief, but of assent._

* * *

They had barged in guns blazing and with no intention of stopping.

Of course, no plan survived contact with the enemy. One by one, his guardians had been picked off by the remaining alliance members in the mansion. In fear of losing too much time, he had decided to let them catch up (it wasn't like they'd _lose_ ) and continued on his way to the main office with a steadily shrinking entourage.

By the time he arrived in front of the double doors (these hallways were ridiculously complex), even Hayato had stayed behind to finish off an incredibly annoying Rain user – it might have helped him vent as well.

Tsuna didn't need to worry about them. He knew they would come out of this, alive if not unharmed.

He could feel a presence on the other side of the doors.

This was it.

He would end this.

Taking a deep breath, he gripped the handle and turned, pushing the door open. Still on high alert, he took everything in.

Dark room.

Several bookshelves.

One window.

Curtains down.

Auburn hair...

… a brilliant smile …

… slight build …

Tsuna couldn't breathe. The world spun yet completely stopped at the same time. His hands trembled. His eyes widened, the slightest hint of tears gathering at the corners.

A hoarse whisper that drowned out the suddenly silent world.

“...Kyouko?”


	22. To Move On

It couldn't be...

It couldn't possibly be...

“...Kyouko?”

Auburn locks framed her face, unblemished as he remembered it. Her arms were still as slender as back then, hands clasped behind her back, unseen. Her eyes remained unchanged, soft, honey coloured pools that he felt he could drown in.

And her _smile_.

But... that was impossible... it was impossibleimpossible _impossible-_

And yet she stood in front of him right now.

Tsuna remained frozen in the doorway, throat closed off to the point where he could barely _breathe_.

Her smile widened after a moment and her teeth shone like stars in the night sky.

“Hello, Tsuna-kun.” she said in a warm, gentle voice, lips moving in sync with her words, and yet he couldn't quite believe she had said anything at all.

His eyes widened further, unable to form a coherent thought.

“K-Kyo... Kyouko... chan... I... I...”

The tears that he'd tried holding back slid down his cheeks in a constant flow.

She tilted her head, a perfect expression of innocent confusion adorning her face that look oh so painfully familiar.

“Yes?”

He tried to speak, but the words were stuck in his throat, building up the pressure and slowly choking him. Only a strangled noise managed to escape his lips.

And she started giggling, shoulders shaking in mirth. It was a beautiful sound, like the chiming of the wind bells at the porch of her home on a warm summer day. Like innocence and happiness soaring in the wind. Like the energetic chirping of the birds he'd heard at the graveyard.

“Ne, Tsuna-kun.”

She looked him in the eye and he felt compelled to say something, anything.

“...wha- ah... y-yes...?” he managed to force the words out of his throat in a daze.

She closed her eyes for a second, as if in contemplation, then opened them again, smile widening even more.

“Did you love me?”

Nothing. He could not react at all. He couldn't breathe, couldn't think. As if watching from far away, he vaguely felt his head make the tiniest of moves.

A shaky nod.

She nodded too, like she just confirmed something, and stopped leaning on the large desk behind her, straightening up.

“Would you do anything for me, Tsuna-kun?”

The world began spinning once again and he could not bring himself to answer that question, even though they both knew the answer was a resounding 'yes'.

“Would you give me anything I wanted?”

She brushed some bangs out of her face and clasped her hands behind her back once again.

She stepped forward.

“Would you suffer for me?”

Another step.

“Would you kill for me?”

_'I already have.'_ was the only actual thought in his scrambled mind and he held onto it, a scene of blood and death and rage playing again and again in his mind's eye.

One last step and she was right in front of him, hands raised to cup his face.

“Would you **die** for me?”

She leaned towards him and he could feel her blazing hot breath searing into his skin, suffocating him.

“That night, that was _your_ fault.”

He gasped, nightmares and memories flooding his mind as her hands slipped down from his face to circle his neck.

“An eye for an eye, a life for a life...”

And she  _squeezed_ .

“...right, _**Tsuna-kun**_?”

Tsuna grasped weakly at her hands, seemingly made of steel, as he desperately gasped for air. And yet, even when black spots danced around his vision as it blurred from the tears, he couldn't look away. Her gaze, bright and cheerful as it had always been, pinned him down.

He started slipping. His struggles became weaker.

But... in her eyes... a glint...

...wrong... something... wrongwrongwrongsowrong...

wrongWRONGITWASWRONGFAKELET _GO_ !!

With his last shred of consciousness, he released a burst of flames and his throat was released with a sharp cry of pain. He fell to his knees, coughing, trying to suck in as much air as possible. The black spots cleared and he was finally able to think again.

And he was angry.

“How... how _dare_ you?”

Screw that, he was  _furious_ .

His voice shook with ire as he spoke, “How fucking dare you! RAZZA!”

But in front of him was not Razza. A woman stood where he should have been, covering the left side of her face with her hand, willing the burns to stop hurting so damn much.

His anger curled in on itself as confusion momentarily took over, “...who are you?”

She glared at him before her lips curled up into a knowing smirk, “Why boy, do you really not recognize me? Ah, of course, just a moment.” she said in mock realization.

And right before his eyes, the slender woman turned into a familiar tall, burly man.

“Recognize me now?”

Tsuna's eyes widened in realization, as his rage trembled inside him, waiting to be released.

“...Razza never existed in the first place.”

The man raised a mocking eyebrow (the right one that wasn't burned), his demeanour now cool and calculating, the complete opposite of his usual boiling anger – or hers, really.

“It seems you aren't as dumb as I thought, Vongola.”

Tsuna scowled, barely restraining himself, “Why? Why go so far?”

She turned back and snorted, a sneer replacing her smirk, “Why? Why?! Shouldn't that be obvious to you of all people?” she gritted her teeth at his silence, “Respect, boy! The Italian Mafia is full of dogmas and chauvinistic tradition. It respects no one but men who think themselves strong and above everyone else! No one took me seriously, boy. Just like no one takes you seriously.”

His fists shook, “You-”

“Oh don't even start.” she scoffed, “I made this role for myself because I wanted influence. The same influence you can't get. To the eyes of the Mafia, you're just a naïve little boy.”

A nasty smile played with her lips.

“Dame-Tsuna 'til the end. Eh, ragazzo?”

Unwittingly, his eyes widened, “How-!”

“I did my homework. And it seems like you haven't, holding a conversation instead of fighting me off.”

Tsuna's scowl deepened and he was about to retort when suddenly his surroundings disappeared, leaving him standing in absolute darkness.

This time, her voice came from everywhere, “You really are naïve.”

His bangs shadowed his eyes as a wild flame sprouted on his forehead.

“Oh? Angry, are we?”

A moment of silence followed.

“I thought you might want to see her one last time.”

His frame trembled.

Before he could react, a knife embedded itself in his shoulder, giving him pause.

He did not cry out, nor did he flinch.

He simply raised his other arm – and ripped it out.

“Your illusion...” he almost muttered, but she could hear him clearly, he knew. Flames burst from his clenched fists, melting the knife.

When he looked up, his eyes blazed with righteous fury.

“...is just that.”

If he could not see through it, he would simply overpower it.

A blast of flames, much denser than the first, encompassed the air around him. Suddenly he was back in the office, now charred and partly on fire.

And in a corner sat the woman, face set in half disbelief and half outrage.

“...I thought the rumours were fake... what kind of flame monster are you?!”

He stared at her, this time impassively, as if the blast had spent his anger, and she scowled.

“No matter. I can't let you go knowing my face.”

When Tsuna spoke, it was not in the trembling voice of a man overtaken with wrath, but in in a hard, cold tone that spoke of unforgiving ice and death incarnate.

“You will find that that is the least of your worries.”

At that moment, a portal of the darkest black appeared behind Tsuna, chains flying out to bind her as a cloaked figure emerged from the depths of the void before it disappeared. She could do nothing but tremble in sickening fear as her biggest nightmare approached.

Tsuna glanced at the new arrival, “Jager. Just in time, as always.”

The Vindice nodded once in acknowledgement. “Shall I proceed?”

He look back at her, fire ranging in his eyes once again.

“No. Leave this one to me.” he said through gritted teeth.

He approached her and squatted before her as she snarled in defiance, doing her best to ignore the looming presence in the back of the room.

“Even though you hurt so many, I did not want to kill you. Even though you _dared_ use her image like that, I still don't want to kill you.” his eyes narrowed, “But I will strip you of everything you worked for. Your influence will be shot the moment you set foot in Vendicare. And your power...” her trembling grew more pronounced, even as the snarl never left her face, “...will be taken care of right now.

In a sudden, fluid motion, he plunged his hand forwards, towards her chest, only for it to disappear in a small black portal right in front of her. Eyes closed in concentration, as if trying to sense something, his arm moved the slightest bit.

The moment he extracted his hand from the portal, an unbelievable coldness overtook her body.

When she saw the small, indigo glowing sphere in his hand as it was slowly overtaken by ice, she started to panic.

“What did you... what did you do?! WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!”

His answer came only when he had given the now fully encased sphere to the cloaked figure.

“I took away your flames.”

For a moment, everything was silent.

Jager turned to Tsuna, “With this, the contract is sealed.”

Tsuna nodded grimly, “Yes. Should the Vindice ever feel the need to completely incapacitate a prisoner, the Vongola head will willingly offer themselves to help in the sealing of their flames after you extract their flame core.”

“And you remember that this arrest is only a favour. There will be no more after this.”

“I am aware.”

Jager nodded, content with his answer, as a portal opened behind him and he entered, dragging the chains with him.

The woman seemed to snap out of her shock.

“No... no. No! You can't! You can't do this to me! You can't! This was my life! You can't take it away! YOU CAN'T!”

As Tsuna watched her disappear into the portal, the look of absolute hatred etched on her face as she met his gaze was burned into his mind, an image that would haunt him for decades.

“ _NOOO!”_

Once the portal finally closed, his legs gave out on him and he leaned against a wall, his entire frame trembling.

For the last time, he allowed himself to cry over the girl he had lost so long ago – yet not long at all.

* * *

The victory party took place two weeks after the battle.

Tsuna smiled as he saw Nico, who had been officially declared heir to the Vongola as the opening for the party, playing with Fuuta while they chased the two younger kids around. He was glad to see they were getting along, even if they did topple a few expensively laid out tables in the process.

Eh, he could afford it.

He looked around from the corner he had claimed for himself. Close to the gardens he spotted Vivianne and Cassiano, who was already drunk beyond reason, along with Armando Buccheri, the Boss of the Colomba Famiglia, who had previously refused to join the Vongola alliance due to the risks involved in his reforms.

At least the Colomba had remained neutral during the struggle, which had helped his case when he had come to him three days ago to take back his refusal. Tsuna's answer was still pending, but the more time passed the less he was inclined to leave the man hanging.

Tsuna sighed. If anything, he had at least proved himself competent enough to erase Buccheri's doubts. That had to count for something.

The Davois-Boggio couple, on the other hand, had decided to completely ignore their elders' demands. The moment the war was over, they announced their engagement and the subsequent merging of both their Famiglie to form the Croce Famiglia. Both their families had been celebrating since then, which probably explained Cassiano's current state.

The group of three moved a bit until they met with Haru and Enma. Cassiano seemed to be in a good mood as he leaned against Enma, blabbering on. Judging by their near simultaneous blushing he had probably said something rather inappropriate about their relationship.

Tsuna chuckled. Served him right, that Enma, for finding himself a girlfriend before Tsuna. He cringed when he realized that thought had sounded just a bit too much like his father. Can't deny the genes, huh? And talking about his father...

“Are you sure you want to be here, dear? We could go back to the apartment...”

“Oh please, you worry too much Iemitsu.” Nana contentedly observed her glass as the champaign swerved around, “Besides, I think I could get used to this whole Mafia thing.” she said with her usual cheerful smile.

Iemitsu gaped, “B-but, uh,you... uh...”

Nana giggled ans Tsuna snorted in amusement. His mother had wanted to come for this occasion when Tsuna had let slip on the phone that they were celebrating their new, hard-won peace, and nothing could stop Sawada Nana once she set her mind to something.

Not even her husband, the (not so) Young Lion of the Vongola.

As he let his gaze drift further still, it inevitably landed on Chrome, standing by a pillar while she nursed her drink.

He looked down at his own glass before looking back at her, who was gazing out the window at the starry sky. He looked back down at his glass. His fingers twitched.

Suddenly, he felt a small pressure on his back.

Out of the corner of his eye, he thought he saw a flash of auburn, a brilliant smile.

“ _Live your life, Tsuna-kun.”_

Eyes wide, he immediately turned around.

There was no one there.

Somewhat shaken, he shook his head and turned back to look at Chrome. With one last look at his glass, he emptied it and placed it on a table.

Well, here we go.

“Hey, Chrome. You look wonderful tonight.”

(Meanwhile in another corner, Mukuro pretended he hadn't just seen a ghostly apparition behind Tsunayoshi for just a moment and instead focused on the fact that he was asking his sister for a dance. His eyes narrowed.)

That night was one one of fun and celebration, and everyone enjoyed it to the fullest.

And if they were escaping reality for just a bit, well, no one in this room would judge.


	23. Epilogue

“And what happened then?”

“I'm not going to narrate his whole life story, Yukine.”

The addressed girl pouted, “But-!”

The man sighed, absently moving a white strand of hair out of his eyes, “Well, you do know that he achieved his goal within three generations. The Vongola once again became the protectors of the people, if still treading slightly outside the law. But that's a rather long story with a lot of political aspects that you probably don't want to hear about.”

Yukine frowned, realizing he was right, “Then... the ending. Tell me how the story ends.”

He chuckled, “Really?”

She nodded enthusiastically.

“Well, then. I guess it would end where he started a new story.”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

He looked at her for a moment, coffee brown boring into amber, “...you remember about his Hyper Intuition I told you about?”

“Yeah. But what does that have to do with anything?” she asked in confusion.

“It is a great tool, and extremely rare. Secondo's line, shrewd as they all may have been, never really showed any signs of possessing it. It's what saved both Primo and Decimo in more than one occasion. But it would have died out with Tsunayoshi.”

She blinked in befuddlement, “Eh? Why?”

He smiled wryly, “The woman he married couldn't bear children.”

“...you mean the Mist Guardian? Because of her organs?”

He raised an eyebrow, “You made that connection rather fast. Yes, but he still wanted to pass it on. And he did so on his deathbed.”

“When did he die?”

“Not especially young, but not very old either. Some time around his fifties. The last wound he ever got destabilized his already long-term damaged body. When he was brought back and laid down, surrounded by his Family, he beckoned Undecimo's daughter to come closer.”

“Undecimo as in Nico di Vongola?”

He gave her a rather flat stare, “Yes, child. Now, if you would let me tell the story.” At her sheepish smile he continued, “His daughter was pregnant at that time, and through some method that eludes even me, it seems he managed to transfer his gift unto her unborn child. By the next morning he had passed away.”

“What about his Guardians?”

“They disappeared. No one really knows exactly where they've gone but it seems they separated.”

“But Jii-chan didn't disappear!”

“Exactly how often have actually seen your grandfather?” he pointed out with an unimpressed look.

Yukine frowned, “...oh.”

At that moment, the door of the mostly empty shop was opened rather forcefully, an elderly woman looking around until she spotted the girl.

“Yukine!”

The small girl winced. She should have seen this coming.

“B-baa-chan! It's not what it-”

“It's exactly what it looks like!” the woman interrupted her as she marched up to her and grabbed her arm, “How many times have I told you not to come here?”

“But-”

As she dragged Yukine out of the shop, however, a voice stopped her, “Please send my regards to Kyouko, Hana-san.”

Hana turned to glare at him, “I don't want my daughter involved in any of your schemes, Kawahira.”

He nodded, “It's just a greeting.”

She stared at him for a moment, ignoring the child struggling to free herself from her surprisingly strong grip, before she turned away without a word and slammed the sliding door shut behind her.

Kawahira sighed, although his lips curled up in amusement.

* * *

Outside, a shadowed figure watched the woman and the child walk down the road from a tree branch. Shifting slightly to accommodate his old bones, he prepared to disappear when a voice right beside him stopped him in his tracks, although to his credit, he didn't jump in surprise like the first few times this had happened, so many years ago.

“Ne, ne, Mukuro. Are you sure you should be sitting in a tree with that body of yours?”

The man sent an irritated glare towards the source of the voice, “And what exactly are you implying, Tsunayoshi?”

The translucent boy, for that was what he looked like with his big eyes, young face and small stature, simply smiled mischievously, “Oh well, you know, time's kind of catching up to you and this can't be good for your joints.”

Completely ignoring the fact that he was actually saying the truth, the old man materialized a trident in his hand and attempted to skewer him. The weapon phased right through him.

Huffing indignantly, he let the weapon disappear, “You're the one who tasked his Guardians to look after the rest of his family, I'm just following orders from a long dead man like the fool I seem to have become in my old age.”

“Aww~ Don't be like that, Mukuro-san.” another voice joined the conversation and, behind Tsuna, an intangible girl appeared sitting on the same tree branch, auburn hair still somehow swaying in the breeze.

Mukuro sighed, a weary exhale, wishing he wasn't in this situation. “Why can't you two leave me alone for once.”

“Well, you know, I'm kind of haunting my Guardians-”

“And I'm haunting Tsuna!” exclaimed the girl.

“Then go haunt someone else.”

Tsuna pouted, “Mou, but you're the only one I can talk to!”

The master illusionist let out a barely audible groan. He didn't know if it was a late after-effect of his six trips to hell or if it had something to do with his own experiences as a wandering spirit, but a few decades ago, he had suddenly developed the ability to see the dead that lingered in the realm of the living.

And it had annoyed the hell out of him ever since.

Still he had been rather surprised when a thirteen-year-old Tsuna had suddenly appeared before him mere days after his death. Kyouko right beside him was a more familiar sight, though.

Another resigned sigh, “How is Nagi doing?”

At that, the perpetual smile on the dead boy's face faded for the first time that day, “...she passed away yesterday. If she doesn't pass on she might just join us.”

Mukuro's stare was so flat he could have slipped on it, “For some reason, I don't think any of us will pass on until all seven join you.”

“Aww~ That's so sweet! But don't die on me yet!” the smile returned full force.

“You know, I liked you more when you were leading a war. You were far less energetic.”

“Nah, I like me more when I don't have to. I think death's been good for me.”

Mukuro rolled his eyes, “Of course you would. Now if you'll excuse me.”

With that he disappeared. Tsuna had never quite figured out how he did that or why he couldn't immediately follow, so he and Kyouko headed toward Ryohei instead, who had come back to Namimori to see his family a few weeks ago.

It was peaceful. Strife in the Mafia had mostly settled by now. This town in the middle of Japan was completely unaffected. And soon all his Guardians will have lived their lives and they could all move on to whatever awaited them after this.

He looked up with a translucent smile.

The sky had never seemed so blue.

* * *

 

**THE END**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe it, but Redemption is finally over, after little more than a year. When I first started writing this, it was really just a small plotbunny that I never thought would get more than three chapters. And then this. This story has helped me improve amazingly. Redemption is my precious child, and while it could probably do with improvement, I'm still happy with how it turned out.
> 
> Through this story I also met some wonderful people, two of which are detrametal and thevelvetkey, who turned out to be two of the most extraordinary people I've ever had the pleasure to talk to. And I also want to thank you all for all the support you have shown me throughout my writing process, even though I left you hanging for almost six months... twice. Especially those who have been here from the beginning and decided it would be worth sticking with until the end.
> 
> Thank you all so much. I'll see you in another story.


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